The Whiskey Checklist
by Raven Wolfmoon
Summary: After the war, George and Percy must find reasons to keep living, but they are both haunted by Fred's death and moving on is not as easy as they thought. Lots of Weasley goodness! Eventual canon pairings!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hey everyone! How odd it is that there is always a huge gap between my fanfics…I guess it just takes a while for a good idea to grip me! This one hit me a long time ago, actually, but only recently took control of my life as the last movie came out and I couldn't help but think about the family's reactions to Fred's death, especially George and Percy. _

_Just one more thing before getting to the story: I am not British, though I try to be with the dialogue, at least. My awesome-tastic beta, iheartmwpp, is helping me with that, as well as correcting all kinds of silly mistakes that I make, both grammar-wise and canon-wise, as she is a complete Harry Potter fanatic to the extent that it somewhat frightens me… Luckily, with her help and the wonderful guidance of the Harry Potter Wiki, I think this story is believably canon._

_Enjoy!_

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><p><span>Chapter 1<span>

George stared numbly at the empty bed across the room.

The reminder was cruel, even though Fred hadn't been gone more than a week.

George could almost convince himself that his brother was just visiting a friend, and would soon barge into the room and dive under the messy covers like he had done a thousand times before.

But the deep ache in his chest spoke the truth, no matter how many times he tried to deny it.

Fred was dead.

George had been repeating these words to himself, but never aloud. The ache wouldn't allow him. It had lodged itself into a small, tight space, and had clung there to feast. With every breath, he could feel its poison oozing through his veins, sapping his strength and corroding his energy. It got to the point where George even had to stop thinking, for every memory was tainted with emotion, and the ache festered in his emotions. It thrived in them.

George wished he could just rip the thing right out of his chest. He knew it was killing him, but in a way, he wanted it to. He didn't see the point of living with it, of letting it possess him. His family would understand that. It would, after all, be _his_ decision in the end to free _his_ body from its control.

They had taken his wand though. And removed the sharp edges of the various objects he had flung from the shelves in a rage that very first day back home. They had nearly taken the sheets as well, but figured he still needed them to sleep. Which was ridiculous, of course. The ache wouldn't let him sleep. It had already infected his mind; he couldn't escape it. It was pointless to think he could.

When it came down to it, amongst the scarcities that they had left behind, George wished they had taken the bed with them. The bloody thing was built for people – no, just one person – and it was offensive to let it sit there, empty, night after night. The poor bed probably didn't even realize what had happened. Now what was it supposed to do? Collect dust?

Of course, they had already abandoned these very beds once after moving into the apartment above the store, but it hadn't meant to be permanent. They visited home occasionally, and always took comfort in knowing that their beds were waiting for them.

Now it was sad, so very, very sad, that the bed was all alone. It purpose was gone. It was useless.

There came a soft knock on the door. George vaguely thought about who it could be, and narrowed it down to one of his brothers. He had a lot of brothers.

It was Charlie, looking terribly grim. George wondered what was wrong, and was abruptly grateful that it wasn't his mother. She was nagging quite a bit lately, and always blowing her nose. The ache had taken his voice, so how was he supposed to explain to her that he wasn't hungry, or that he preferred not to move from his curled position on the bed? He was comfortable this way. He just wished that everyone would stop bothering him.

They always burst into his room with such depressing faces, most still tinged with that laughably hysterical edge of hopefulness. If only he could talk to them about the ache in his chest, slowly devouring him, then they wouldn't look so pleading and desperate.

But since he couldn't, he endured their speeches. They said the same things in the same ways. He never could quite remember exactly what they said. He had just amused himself by watching them try to side-step the issue, or insert happier news to temper the reality of the situation. It was like they didn't know how to talk to him anymore. He couldn't help but think that if they removed the bed, things might be easier, as their gazes were always drawn to it.

Oh, Charlie was still there. His voice was low, gravelly, as if he had barely slept. He was also a bit unshaven too, and his hair and clothing were unkempt. George hoped that he would fix that, especially since the whole family was going out that day. He wasn't stupid. He knew what day it was. Too bad he couldn't say that out loud. Instead, he had to keep hearing the same words ad nauseam – 'denial,' 'out of the house,' 'pay our respects,' 'fresh air,' etc. It was quite silly, really, their thinking that he would leave. He was sure the ache had settled in his muscles, as he felt nothing but heavy and lethargic.

But this was different now... How interesting. Charlie was starting to get mad. All of a sudden, he felt himself choked as Charlie bodily lifted him out of bed by his collar and slammed him against the far wall. The pain in his head felt dull compared to the ache, but he found himself wanting to obey Charlie's words, even though he barely registered them.

Mechanically, he began to dress himself in the formal dress robes that Charlie held out to him with his back turned. When it was done, Charlie patted him on the shoulders and apologized for the rough treatment. The ache was shocked, but not too much to allow George to acknowledge his elder brother's remorse, so he just paced forward dimly, his brother trailing him wordlessly with no doubt a devastated expression.

George's body felt like lead. He swore that each step thumped loudly and hollowly in the house, because he feel its reverberations in his ears, and it made his head pound. It was amazing that his body even still worked. He felt as if he had to tell his knees to bend, his eyes to see, his ear – the one left – to hear. But even then the floor felt shaky, the colors appeared dull, and all sounds seemed muted.

When he got to the bottom level, his family, including Harry and Hermione, were all gathered there, apparently waiting for him. They stared and George stared back before breaking eye contact and whispering quietly to one another. Eyeing them, he was amused by their similar outfits. How nice they would all appear together, he thought idly. If only their faces looked less puffy and red, then it would be perfect.

They hesitated for a few moments as Charlie pounded back upstairs to get into his outfit. George spent the meantime observing his family, noting the many different clenched hands clasped together – most noticeably the newest, Harry's and Ginny's, and Ron's and Hermione's. The family was just getting bigger by the second!

Add two, subtract one!

Sometime later, they were all trudging up the hill outside toward a portkey, and after the familiar sensation, they landed outside of Hogwarts. Almost instantly, they were swarmed by people. Clusters of families and friends huddled together, crying, sharing stories, consoling those doubled-over in grief. There was a large memorial stone erected in the center that towered above them all, bearing the names of the victims of the battle that had taken place there, and many were weeping openly at the sight of it.

The day was otherwise warm and sunny, and the grounds of Hogwarts were clean and beautiful. George marveled at how the place looked, considering that the attack had nearly decimated Hogwarts, and yet, not a piece of rubble could be seen. Instead, the stones that had been blasted from the very walls of the castle had been transfigured into something else – tombstones.

Facing the sparkling lake and Dumbledore's tomb was an expansive cemetery thronged with people. Each grave was identified and individually marked based on the occupants' interests in life. As the Weasley clan slogged through the crowd, George saw smiling, waving pictures, exotic flowers, toys, enchanted teddy bears, wands and even a camera, tenderly placed by young Denis Creevey on his brother's grave.

But the one he was not prepared to see came upon him too suddenly. It was if a powerful wave radiated from it, forcing his mother's knees to cave the instant they reached it, while the rest of the family to wept or assumed solemn expressions. The couples embraced one another, and George suddenly felt alone and abandoned like that empty bed back home. He had been paired with someone his entire life, and now he was just supposed to go on like it hadn't happened?

It didn't help that Fred was smirking at him. Some bodies had yet to be buried, and Fred's was one of them, as some families including theirs had wanted to pay their last respects by holding their loved ones' hands, or kissing their foreheads goodbye.

For George, seeing his brother lying there so cold and still made the ache flair so intensely that he felt like his chest were on fire. He clawed at it, not realizing he had dropped to his knees, as his eyes drank in every detail of Fred's immobile face. Some part of his mind asked why his brother was just lying there so stiffly, and why he wasn't breathing. Another part demanded why Fred was alone on the slab of stone. Yet another part raged while another cursed in agony and absorbed the inferno engulfing him. The feelings strangled him, and he felt a scream rip from his throat.

He couldn't take this. The ache was too much. Why couldn't they just put him out of his misery? This wasn't how things were supposed to go. This was impossible. This shouldn't have happened.

George felt hands on his shoulders and slapped them away, willing them to fight back. He would do anything to get rid of these emotions, _anything_, to make them go away! Why had he allowed Charlie to drag him out here like this? Why was he here? He should've insisted on staying home and letting the ache consume him. It was easier that way, quieter. He could already feel other peoples' disapproving stares on his back, and when he turned to confront them, met only the sobbing visages of some of his friends – Oliver, Lee, Angelina, Katie, Alicia. They pressed toward him, trying to embrace him, but by now he was shaking so fiercely that he barely sensed their kind touches. All he felt was a terrible sinking feeling, and knew the ache had finally moved lower to his stomach, where it could rankle more comfortably. Already in its new place, it began to seep into his thoughts and embolden him, at last releasing his voice.

"Why? His bed's all alone, it shouldn't be alone! IT SHOULDN'T BE ALONE!"

Suddenly he was on his feet and people were pushing at him, yelling at him, blaming him for not dying with Fred. Even Fred agreed that it was wrong - George saw him nod. His throat constricted and the fire in his chest threatened to burn its way out of his mouth, sucking out his air. He stumbled, gasping for breath, but the hands were relentless, and the faces swarmed around him, grotesque in their accusations.

He needed to get away, far away. These people wanted him dead! But didn't the ache want him dead too? He didn't know anymore.

Struggling, he surged through the mass of people and rushed to an open spot where he prayed he could just escape. His thoughts cleared long enough for a solution to come to mind, and with a desperate lurch, he Apparated with a sharp _crack_.

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><p><em>AN: Honestly, writing emotional fics like this is my equivalent of taking crack…I love analyzing people's psychology and thinking about how they would act as a result. Toying with characters' emotions amuses me greatly, and I've gotten so wrapped up in them lately that I can't stop writing!_

_Unfortunately I cannot say when I will update next, though I would love to hear your thoughts! Please review! _


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hello! I want to first thank my reviewers, schwans and lost in my design – I really appreciate it! It's nice to know that I can write this story for someone else besides myself! _

_Also, I apologize for the length of my chapters. Usually I prefer them to be longer, but I wrote them double-spaced and the cut-offs seemed appropriate, so I'll be sticking with it!_

_Thanks again, and enjoy!_

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><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

George didn't know what had made him think of it. Perhaps he had noticed it subconsciously while observing his family, or maybe it had just seemed like the perfect way out.

Fred had not been the only one missing at the Burrow.

George wondered why his family would not think of Percy at a time like this, but figured that they _had_ contacted him, but hadn't known where to go from there. It had been so long since they had included Percy in any of their family events that they probably didn't know how to deal with him anymore, especially at a time like this. George could very well imagine Percy telling them he would meet them there, and instead show up later after they were finished grieving. It was much more of his style, as he would probably find it too embarrassing to be seen with them, the prat.

Luckily, his older brother, despite his shortcomings, had provided George with exactly what he needed, and even more fortunately, he had recalled enough details of Percy's flat to appear in the right place.

_Typical Percy, leaving everything the same_, he thought, trying to calm his thudding heart.

He had been standing outside of Percy's door for half an hour, trying to gather his thoughts and come up with an explanation of why he had ditched Fred's…funeral. Of course, as Percy was doing the very same thing, George figured he would understand.

The empty hallway calmed him. He no longer felt like he was bothering his family with his presence. At the very least, he was glad to have gotten away from the terrible, thrashing crowds. He couldn't stand any of it – the crying, the embracing, even the reminiscing. All that he saw when he closed his eyes was his brother's mocking yet accusatory face, and that was seared into his mind forever. He knew the ache would harvest that pain and use it to haunt him relentlessly, and soon, the ache would become too powerful for him to handle.

He would just have to deal with that when the time came.

Breathing more steadily now, he lifted his hand and hesitated just before knocking on Percy's door, abruptly apprehensive. Would Percy have put wards on his flat? Did people still do that, now that Voldemort was dead? Old habits die hard, so he wouldn't be surprised if there were still some protection spells intact. But at the same time, he had managed to Apparate safely, right?

But what if Percy had moved and someone else was living there now, maybe even a Muggle?

Worse still, what if he _was_ in the wrong place? It _had_ been years since he had been to Percy's flat, and the details had undoubtedly faded from his memory. He had only made it here after envisioning Percy's room, which he remembered his brother had copied exactly into his flat.

What if he had been wrong?

Things didn't bode well when he grasped the doorknob and realized it was unlocked. Percy had never been so careless, especially since he had lived with the twins…

Peeking through the crack in the door, he saw that the lights in the front were off, and wondered if he was literally breaking into someone else's flat, until he crunched down on the shards of a picture frame littering the entryway, as if it had been knocked down in a rush. Slipping inside a little more, George bent down to flip over the broken frame and felt his lips quirk at the picture in his hand.

She had plain features, but her brown eyes were dancing as she laughed silently and smiled dazzlingly at the camera, causing dimples to appear on her face. She flipped her long curly brown hair and repeated the actions.

George recognized her: Penelope Clearwater.

He was in the right place.

Stepping into the flat, he glanced around suspiciously, wondering why all the lights were off. Was Percy even home? It hadn't even occurred to him that Percy might show up at the funeral and choose to simply stay apart from his family. Of course, thinking about it now, this was probably a stupid idea. Why would he go to _Percy_ of all people? Why hadn't he just returned to the Burrow?

Fatigue lashed at him all of a sudden, and George was very tempted to sink into the welcoming couch in the front room. Maybe he could just wait for Percy to get back.

That was when a sound chilled him to his core: broken sobbing coming from one of the back rooms. George vaguely recalled the layout of the place. Passing through the living room, he snuck by a small, tidy kitchen and came to three closed doors – the one in the middle, he remembered, was the loo, and the other two had been bedrooms until Percy converted one of them into a study. Under the door on the left, the study, a light shone dimly.

Pausing, George didn't know what to do. The last time he had seen Percy cry was when they had tricked him as a kid into getting lost at Diagon Alley. He had been so humiliated and angry that, after their father had found him, he had cried and screamed at the twins until they had laughed to ease the tension. That had set Percy over the edge, and he had slammed the door to his bedroom and refused to speak to the twins for weeks. Even now, George didn't know if he had forgiven them for that.

Thinking about it, he felt a twinge of shame for what they had done in their youth. Percy hadn't deserved that, especially now, when he was clearly so distraught over what had happened that he hadn't been able to leave his flat to attend the funeral. George suddenly felt very invasive and wanted to leave. Turning to the front door, the sound of breaking glass whipped his head back around.

This time, without pause, George pushed the door open and felt his whole body go stiff with shock at what lay before him.

The study was in ruins. Books had been pulled from the shelves and now cluttered the floor. Errant pages were strewn about, stained with quill ink and littered with shards of broken glass from a number of bottles of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey. Quills were everywhere, cracked and bent and broken, and pieces of trash coated everything, leaving grimy streaks on the parts of the floor that were visible.

But what was most alarming was Percy, who staggered drunkenly behind his desk, sloshing firewhiskey onto his already blemished shirt as he raised the bottle to his lips and ended up partially spilling the contents all over him. Bleary eyes were unfocused as he used the back of his hand to wipe away the spittle stuck to the stubble on his chin. Then, with sticky hands, he smoothed back his tangled hair and dropped the bottle, uncaring, as it smashed to the ground and shattered into a million pieces. Instead, he focused on something else, something that George couldn't see, for it was hidden behind a stack of torn and stained parchment.

That was when George's heart stopped cold.

Percy swayed where he stood as he held his wand up and pointed the tip to his right temple. Tears poured from his eyes as his red face crumpled in grief, his lips moving soundlessly at first before finally emitting syllables.

"Av…avad…avada…" he slurred, trying so desperately to speak that he was practically spitting the terrible words.

Something in George snapped.

"_NO!_" he yelled, lunging forward.

Percy jumped and the wand fell from his listless fingers and rattled onto the floor. His bloodshot eyes widened as George rushed at him.

"F-Fred? I'm so sorry…so sorry!" he sobbed brokenly, hiccupping slightly as his breath caught in his throat. "I'm sorry!" He covered his face with his hands as he crashed to the ground, oblivious to the glass shards piercing his bare arms.

George ignored him as he scrambled for Percy's wand and then threw it across the room. Percy didn't even seem to have noticed.

"What were you _doing_ Percy?" he demanded angrily, the magnitude at what Percy had almost done ramming into him like a thousand bludgers. Hot, furious tears streaked from his eyes as he sank beside his older brother. "What were you _doing_?" he repeated.

Percy just shook his head and hiccoughed, still sobbing intermittently.

"I…I _had_ to, Fred, I was…I was _supposed_ to...!"

"I'm not Fred!"

Percy's breath hitched as he raised his head and looked up at George with his red, tear-stained face. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he blinked once, twice.

"George." His voice was so small and broken that George felt the ache in his chest nearly double in size, stifling him.

"Merlin, Perce. What were you…?"

Percy just stared at him and then started to chuckle softly, though it sounded more like he was crying.

"George. Of course you're George. You're the one left, because I let Fred… I let him die, when _I_ was the one who should've…" He glanced around groggily. "Where's my wand?"

George was incensed. "What do you mean _you're_ the one that should've?"

Percy looked at his angry face and began to laugh tinnily, a nervous broken sound that grated on George's nerves.

"You look so…so _funny_! Like you…you_ care_!" he giggled insanely. "Don't tell me you…you didn't wish _I_ had died instead?" he slurred, still cackling.

George clenched his fist and saw that it was shaking again.

"Dammit, Percy!" he swore, but his brother cut him off before he could say any more.

"S'okay, George. I know everyone hates me. And they should! You shouldn't feel bad for thinking that; everyone else is! Here I am, Ministry lackey!" he stood up and wobbled dangerously, flailing his arms to gesture at himself. "Just a puppet, a monkey!" He began to twirl ludicrously, coming perilously close to slipping on the glass and breaking his head open against his desk.

"Percy, stop it!" George begged between gritted teeth.

"Abandoned his family! Chose the wrong side! Always the odd one out… No place for Percy here!" he sang, his voice pitching hysterically.

"Percy!" George screamed, standing up and grabbing onto Percy's collar. He could smell the alcohol on Percy's breath. "Just, stop it!"

Percy's head lolled as his lips stretched into a drunken smile. "But it's funny, isn't it? You two were so good at funny things…"

George's eyes welled and spilled over with tears. "Percy…"

"It's alright, George. I just need to find my wand and fix everything…"

"NO! I won't let you!"

Percy was aghast, and narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"I won't let you, because _I'm_ going to do it first." He released Percy with an added shove, and stalked over to snatch up the fallen wand. Glaring at Percy, George pointed it at his head.

"George, no," Percy muttered, shaking his head incredulously.

George's eyes were hard. "Do you really want to see me die, Perce?"

Percy straightened, and true fear emerged in his eyes. "George, no, please!" He stepped forward, raising a pleading hand, and winced when George feinted at him with the wand.

"Do you really want to watch this happen?" George yelled.

Discombobulated, Percy nearly tripped over a book and fell face first onto the floor, but managed at the last second to remain on his feet. Pale terror was etched into his face, sobering him, as he begged George to stop.

"Please, George, I can't…I can't survive another…"

"So you want to live?"

Percy halted in place, dumbfounded. "What?" he asked feebly.

"Percy, do you really want to die like this?" George persisted mercilessly.

"I…I don't… George, please just put the wand down!"

"So you can just grab it and off yourself? You selfish prat! You think you're the only one hurting here?" He jabbed a finger at his chest, where the ache had returned to throb painfully. A lump appeared in his throat. "You think you're the only one who…" He couldn't say the words, couldn't admit them out loud, but Percy seemed to understand as his entire body sagged.

The brothers stood there for a few tense moments, bathed in silence but for their panting breaths, as George slowly lowered the wand. Trembling, George stared at the piece of wood in his hand.

A soft sliding sound made him glance up, and he raised his eyebrows suspiciously at Percy, who had returned to his desk and was removing something from one of his drawers. Standing up, his elder brother displayed another bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey, and for the first time since Fred had died, George cracked a weak smile.

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><p>Several hours later, Percy and George were nursing similar pounding headaches in the living room. Percy was slumped on the couch, while George sprawled on the floor, groaning softly. An empty bottle of firewhiskey sat between them, an equal length from both sets of their fingertips.<p>

"I don't think I've ever been so drunk in my life," Percy groaned, rubbing his temples.

"Mate, where have you been? Oh right, living at the Ministry. No time to drink when you're too busy wooing and ass-kissing, I take it."

Percy shot him a dry look. "You just barely convinced me to not kill myself, and now you're insulting me?"

George shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry. Force of habit, I guess."

Percy sighed. "I suppose that goes to prove that I can never go home again."

"What do you mean?" George demanded, trying to prop himself on his elbows but laying back down when his head protested.

Percy was quiet for a moment. "I doubt anyone can really forgive me."

"Stop with the pity party, Perce. Mum'll forgive you straight away."

"Mum and who else? No one."

"I'll forgive you."

Percy eyed George shrewdly. "No you won't."

George frowned. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You just needed to get away from everyone."

"That's not the only reason, Percy!"

Percy just smiled sadly. "I'm not stupid, George."

"Well I think you are."

"Join the club," Percy muttered darkly. After a few moments of silence, he spoke up again, tentatively. "So…how was the funeral?"

George immediately stiffened. "I…I don't know. I left before the ceremony could start."

"I heard that Minister Shacklebolt was going to recite a speech."

"Well I obviously didn't hear it," George snapped.

"Oh. Right," Percy said weakly, before a thought struck him. "Wait, did you inform Mum and Dad about where you were going? They're probably worried sick about you. I should send them a note—"

"Just come home with me, Perce."

Percy froze, mid-action. "I already told you." He sank back into the couch, defeated. "I can't."

"What's the big deal?"

"You don't get it, do you? I abandoned my family at the worst time possible. It's not something people can easily forget."

"But you were there when it mattered most," George insisted.

"Was I?" Percy shot back. "Was I there when Dad almost died, or when Ron was poisoned, or when Bill and Fleur got married?"

George looked away, unable to say anything.

"Look, George, I appreciate your intentions, but I'm a lost cause."

"Fine. I didn't want to do this, but you've given me no choice."

Percy eyed George suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

George just smirked evilly. "If you don't come home at least once, I'll tell Mum what you almost did today."

Percy paled noticeably, but regained some color when he refuted hotly, "Then I'll tell her you considered it as well."

George started to say something, but quickly shut his mouth.

After a long pause, Percy finally sighed.

"Look, I'll make you a deal. I'll come home only if you start talking again."

George scowled. "What?"

"I challenge you to have a conversation with everyone at home. And it has to be at least eight sentences long. And your replies cannot be one-word answers more than twice in a row."

"Percy, that's ridiculous."

"It's only fair."

There was silence for a moment.

"Does it have to be _everyone_?" George whined.

"Yes."

"What about the honorary members? Fleur, Harry, Hermione?"

"Optional, but recommended."

"And what exactly am I supposed to talk about?"

Percy shrugged. "Anything you want."

George swore under his breath.

"Fine. It's a deal."

"Good. And don't even think about reneging on our agreement. I expect to hear about the results. If I even think you're lying, I won't ever come home." He paused for a moment. "And I won't let you use my room."

George glanced up in surprise. "What?"

"I know why you want me at home," Percy said slowly, "But I can't do it. You…you need to adjust. Use my room. It only has the one bed in it. Maybe…maybe it'll help."

George swallowed thickly and blinked. "T-thanks, Perce. I guess that means I owe you one." He chuckled wryly. "We should start a list to keep track of what we owe each other."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Something like a checklist?"

"A checklist? Sure! The 'Why You Shouldn't Kill Yourself' Checklist. What do you think?"

Percy gave him a look.

"Well, we _have_ to come up with _some_ kind of catchy name!"

Percy rolled his eyes. "You do that then. I'll start it." Carefully entering his study, he salvaged a scrap of parchment, an ink fountain and a useable quill and set them on the kitchen counter. Quickly, he scratched out:

The W.Y.S.K.Y. Checklist

George:

1. Talk to each member of the family in a conversation at least 8 sentences long, with no more than 2 one-word replies in a row.

Satisfied, he gave a little nod and then jumped when George appeared behind him.

"The W.Y.S.K.Y. Checklist, huh?" George read, smiling. "I guess we'll just call it the Whiskey Checklist in secret. I like it. Very snappy. Now let me add something for you." George grabbed the quill and began writing.

**Percy:**

**1. Come home.**

**2. Clean the study because it's nasty.**

**3. Spill the booze unless you're willing to share.**

Percy roughly snatched the parchment back before he could write more, and inserted one last thing.

Visit Fred's grave.

With that, the brothers scribbled their names at the bottom and paused to admire their work.

"We're really going to do this," Percy whispered.

"I guess," George said doubtfully as he sighed and headed to the door. "Alright, well, my headache has gone down a bit. I should probably head home. Umm…thanks Percy."

"You too, George. Tell Mum I'm sorry I didn't make it today."

"Will do."

"Oh, and George?"

George glanced over his shoulder.

Percy eyed him sternly. "Don't mess with the things in my room."

Grinning, George waved goodbye and stepped out of the flat to head the Burrow.

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><p><em>AN: And here's where the title makes sense! I didn't originally know what I was going to call this thing until I started writing this bit and managed to work out a name for their checklist that could work – I'm surprised I even thought of something!_

_I appreciate your reviews! _


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Here's another chapter for you lovely people! I was going to update sooner, but then Hurricane Irene caused a power outage that lasted for four days, so now that I'm back online, here you go!_

_On another note, I just turned 21 a few days ago! Yay! _

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><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

Pandemonium broke loose the instant George stepped in the door at the Burrow. Shrill voices screeched and cheered and demanded questions, but George couldn't answer them, as he was instantly smothered by his mother.

"Oh George, we were so worried!" she sobbed. He could feel wetness on his chest and felt abruptly guilty.

"Sorry, Mum," he apologized quickly.

His mother pulled away and stared at him, her eyes flickering over his face hopefully.

"George, dear, are you talking again?"

George swallowed, not realizing how his silence had affected her.

"Erm…yes."

With a joyful cry, she threw herself at him again, only to be gently removed by his father. His father's eyes were weary, but he smiled genuinely at the news.

"It's good to have you back."

George gave him a feeble smile.

"You twat, where did you go?" Ginny demanded, pushing forward to punch George in the arm.

He rubbed it spitefully, glaring at his sister as his mother admonished her for language.

"I…I went to Percy's."

There was a chorus of disbelieving noises, and a particularly loud snort from Charlie.

"Percy? Really?" he repeated skeptically. When George nodded timidly, he scoffed. "Well, I hope it was to yell at him for not showing up. I can't believe him! The nerve!"

"Charlie," Bill warned, placing a placating hand on his younger brother's shoulder.

Charlie shrugged it off and stepped forward. "Honestly, he was there when Fred died. You'd think he'd have the decency to pay his respects!"

"That's enough!" his father cut in, shooting Charlie a stern look. "I'm sure there's a good reason why Percy didn't show up—"

"Probably felt like he was too good for us!" Ginny interrupted crossly, scowling.

"Ginny, I said that's enough!" his father thundered, his eyes pained. "We will talk to Percy later, but for now, we need to calm down. I'm sure we're all just feeling a bit worked up about…today."

Ginny huffed as she stalked over to Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were standing awkwardly in the back. "I refuse to speak to that git until he apologizes."

"Ginny…" Harry started feebly.

"You won't change my mind," she declared, stopping next to him. Beside her, with his hand in Hermione's, Ron looked uncharacteristically grim as he stared at the floor. Hermione just looked troubled.

"George, I'm so glad you're alright!" came a voice, and before he knew it, he was being tackled by Angelina, followed by Lee, Oliver, Alicia and Katie.

"I didn't know you were here," George admitted weakly.

Lee smiled at him, though his eyes were sad. "We were worried about you, mate. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

"These are tough times. It's better to stick together," Oliver added solemnly.

Alicia shot him an odd look. "Oliver, we're not playing Quidditch here. You _do_ realize that, right?"

Oliver straightened proudly. "What I said applies to both situations, thank you very much."

Katie rolled her eyes. "Some things never change."

Slowly, the family filtered out of the room, everyone breathing more easily as the tension diffused. George and his friends were shooed into the sitting room by his mother, who promised to make some food for them.

"Ah, it's been awhile since I've had some of your mum's cooking," Lee commented, grinning, though it faded as he addressed George directly. "Sorry I haven't been around lately. I just…I guess I needed some time to deal with things."

The rest of them apologized to George as well, who squirmed uncomfortably under their pitying gazes.

"That's…that's okay. I get it. A lot of people…died," he answered flatly.

There was a slightly awkward silence as the group collectively sighed.

"We were really scared for you, you know," Angelina spoke up, eyeing him in concern.

"Yeah, George, how are you doing?" Katie asked gently.

When George found he couldn't answer, Lee hurried to rescue him.

"Come on now, what kind of question is that? We know how George is feeling. We…we lost our friend, too."

"Maybe we can honor Fred's memory with a Quidditch match," Oliver suggested.

Alicia groaned. "Honestly, do you think about anything _besides_ Quidditch?"

"Erm…sometimes."

"What about shagging?" Lee cut in wickedly, winking suggestively.

Oliver just nodded casually. "That too."

Angelina grinned and prodded George with her elbow. "What do you say? Want to play a friendly game sometime?"

All eyes turned to George, who didn't say anything.

The smiles of his friends became strained as another awkward silence descended, only to be broken by his mother carrying in a tray laden with food.

"Here are some sandwiches, dears, do eat up. There are also biscuits in the kitchen. We all need to keep up our strength." She indicated George with her eyes as his friends thanked her and began to reach for some sandwiches.

"Mmm," Lee practically drooled. "Don't know how your mum always manages it, mate, but even drab sandwiches taste like a feast around here. Wish my mum would take the hint every time I compliment your mum's cooking at home."

George was spared from having to speak when his younger siblings, plus Harry and Hermione, entered the room and exchanged greetings.

"I hope we're not interrupting anything," Harry started, but after receiving hurried denials, relaxed onto the floor with Ron, Ginny and Hermione.

"Harry, good to see you!" Oliver declared, clapping him on the back. "Haven't really gotten a chance to talk to you since it all ended! You were fantastic! I'm so proud that I got to be your first Quidditch captain!"

"Oh, Merlin," Katie playfully swore under her breath. "Ignore him, please!"

Harry just grinned.

"Yeah, it feels like it's been forever since we were last on the Pitch together! How _are_ you? You must be so happy now that it's finally over!" Alicia continued.

Harry smiled in embarrassment. "Well, honestly, I don't think it's really hit me yet…"

"Yeah, a lot's happened," Katie agreed somberly.

"So, um, how have you lot been?" Harry began. "I meant to thank you for helping with the rest of the D.A.—"

"No need to thank us, Harry," Angelina assured him. "We would've gone anyways to help out."

"You all risked so much…"

"Not more than you did!" Katie insisted as Harry squirmed awkwardly.

"So, what were you all up to this past year?" Ginny switched the subject tactfully, much to Harry's relief.

"Lee, you were doing Potterwatch, right?" Ron asked. When Lee nodded enthusiastically, he added, "That was bloody brilliant, mate!"

"Thanks! It _was_ my idea, but I had some help." He grinned in George's direction. "You and Fred were the best co-hosts."

The attention was suddenly drawn to George again, who fervently wished he had an Invisibility Cloak to slip on so he could escape. It was exhausting trying to keep up with the conversation _and_ pretend to be okay at the same time. He wished he could just go to sleep.

He smiled weakly and hoped it looked convincing; apparently it wasn't, as he caught Katie and Alicia exchanging sympathetic looks. Even The Boy Who Lived looked at him sadly, and Harry had practically given his life for the wizarding world. It was downright humiliating.

George stood up. "Sorry, mates…I'm…I'm kind of tired." He tried to ignore the hurt expressions on their faces as he walked out of the room. As he headed for the stairs, he heard them resume a more hushed conversation and knew they were talking about him, but he couldn't bring himself to care anymore.

George trudged up the stairs to the second floor, pausing to stare at his bedroom door down the hall before slowly entering Percy's room. He hadn't ever really been in there, though he knew that Percy's existence had effectively been wiped out once he left, especially since his mother had had to clean it so Fleur and Gabrielle could move in before the wedding.

The word that immediately came to mind was: clean. But that he had expected, since Percy had always been a notorious neat freak. A small dresser leaned against the wall next to a foldable writing desk, and across from that was a well-made bed with a pile of blankets stacked at the end and a small pile of boxes next to it. What drew George's attention, though, was the window, which overlooked the garden. He went to look outside and stood, watching the sun slowly set, feeling like he understood Percy's penchant for peace and quiet a little more. It was comforting, in a way, though at the same time it felt so strange. Living with Fred, he had gotten so accustomed to explosions, and noise-makers, and laughing into all hours of the night…

George clutched his chest and sank to the floor, weeping bitterly. The silence embraced him, filled him, and then it choked him so he couldn't breathe. Gasping, he sprawled on the floor and closed his eyes, waiting for oblivion to claim him.

* * *

><p>George sat bolt upright a few hours later on a bed, sweating and panting, staring around the room in horror as the vestiges of his nightmare slipped away. Squinting through the darkness, he tried to determine where he was. That was when he noticed the flickering candle in the corner, and remembered that he was in Percy's room. His mother or father must have left it for him after Levitating him into bed, knowing that he didn't have a wand to turn on the light.<p>

Breathing deeply, George tried to shake off his night terror, but knew that even if he did, he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. He glanced around, wondering what he could do to occupy the time, and briefly puzzled over how almost an entire week had passed without his realizing it. He didn't remember sleeping at all during that time, but he must've… Had he really been curled up in bed the whole time?

George closed his eyes, willing himself to return to his previous mindset. He couldn't recall anything that had happened since Fred had…died, but that made it better and less painful. Being lucid now, actually _talking_ to people, was exhausting! And thanks to that stupid checklist, he had to talk to his whole family! Maybe he could get out of talking with Ron and Ginny, since they had been there earlier… No, he had barely talked, and now that he thought of it, neither had they. In fact, they had been unusually silent in the whole exchange, letting his friends carry the brunt of the conversation. That wasn't like them.

Sighing, George swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, running a hand through his hair. He stalked out to the loo, and after relieving himself, stared at his reflection in the mirror.

Merlin's beard, he had gone to hell! His eyes were bloodshot with dark bags underneath, and he had unruly stubble all over his chin. When was the last time he had showered? He groaned and gripped the sink with his hands. Why hadn't he cleaned up for the funeral? Hell, he had thought _Percy_ looked like a wreck!

He washed his face quickly, and turned on the spigot for the shower. While it was warming up, he wandered back to his room to grab a fresh set of clothes, seeing as the one he was wearing (when had he changed into it?) felt grimy and old.

The empty bed stared at him as George stepped inside, carrying the candle from Percy's room. He wondered what would happen if he decided to put on Fred's old clothes. Would anyone notice? Would Fred mind?

He found himself opening drawers in Fred's dresser and began to pull out clothes, mainly the ones they had left behind when they had moved. There was a pair of mismatched striped pajamas with holes in the knees and burn marks around the elbows. An old shirt that they had tried to hex a dirty saying onto was scrunched up and wrinkled, and below that he found a jacket stained with one of their failed experiments.

So many memories…how could it be that Fred wouldn't make anymore?

George, recalling the shower, forced himself to close the drawer and after snatching up some random clothes, retreated to the bathroom.

A half hour later found him sneaking down the stairs to grab a small snack. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually eaten something, though he must have, since his stomach hadn't rumbled in days.

When he got outside the kitchen, he was surprised to find the light on, and even more shocked to find Ginny sitting morosely at the table with her head in her hands.

Recalling the checklist, George wondered if he could get the first conversation out of the way. Besides, it looked like Ginny needed some comforting.

"Gin?"

Ginny gasped and straightened, her eyes wide as she saw George standing in the doorway.

"George. What are you doing here?"

"I…couldn't sleep."

Ginny gave him a small smile. "Me neither."

"Nightmares?" George guessed.

Ginny shrugged. "There are those, but it's more that I've got too much on my mind."

"Like what?"

Ginny looked somewhat wistful as George settled in the chair across from her, keenly aware that it was next to Fred's customary seat.

"I see you're talking again. I'm glad. Though I have to admit, I'm kind of surprised that Percy helped with that." She made a face and George tried to laugh, but found that his lips couldn't quite complete the movement.

"He wasn't that bad. He's…going through a lot."

"Oh _he's_ going through a lot?" Ginny repeated, tossing her head irritably.

George eyed her closely. "What's the matter?"

"I think the more valid question would be: what _isn't_ the matter. It's nothing and yet everything at the same bloody time!" she muttered.

"So what's going on?" George insisted.

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Why do you care so much?" When George didn't answer, she sighed. "Fine, I'll spill."

George nodded in encouragement as Ginny inhaled deeply.

"It's…it's Harry."

George's eyebrows rose, and a fierce wave of protectiveness surged in his chest.

"What about him? Did he do something to you?" he demanded, nearly rising to his feet.

Ginny rolled her eyes in annoyance. "_No!_ It's just…he saved the world. He's done things I can't even imagine. He's been trying to fill me in for days, and we're only halfway through his life story! I don't know…I don't know how to help him get over some of that stuff. The scary part is, I don't think he even knows that it's affected him. How am _I_ supposed to help him? The stuff I've done doesn't even compare!"

"Do you want to be with him?" George interrupted. "Because, frankly, when I caught you two snogging that one time, you looked like you were enjoying it."

Ginny blushed and punched George in the forearm, which he rubbed indignantly.

"Stop it, will you?" Ginny laughed teasingly. "_Of course_ I want to be with him! This last year was too…awful. I didn't know if he or Ron or Hermione were even okay! I waited for news everyday…" she trailed off as George assumed a thoughtful expression.

"You're going to be fine, Gin. Just be there for him. Harry's a humble guy. He just wants someone to talk to."

"You think so?"

"Iunno. I'm not a relationship expert. All I can say is that you two seem happiest when you're together, so just stay that way."

Ginny's lips quirked into a smile. "Thanks, George."

They were silent for a moment, letting their eyes rove about the kitchen and all its odds and ends, nooks and crannies, before Ginny spoke up suddenly.

"Can I help _you_, George?"

"With what?" he said quickly.

Ginny's face was mournful. "With Fred. With getting over him. I know it's probably hurting you the most. You were the closest to him."

All at once, George felt like he were Apparating for the first time. The pressure that squeezed his body nearly suffocated him.

"I don't…I don't…." he stammered brokenly before standing up abruptly, scraping back the chair.

"George!" Ginny called to him, reaching out to him, but he ignored her as he raced out the back door and into the night. The cold spring air punched him in the gut, and he felt his lungs burning as he struggled to take in air. Still, it was a better sensation than feeling like he was being squeezed to death, so he let it overwhelm him for a little while.

Eventually, his breathing returned to normal. His still-wet hair was cold against his scalp as he rolled back his neck to view the stars. He felt so insignificant under them, so completely tiny and unimportant. He wondered what Fred would say to that.

George would just have to wait until he came back.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'll be heading back to school in a few days, and even though I am ahead in writing, I want to make sure I can finish this thing in an appropriate amount of time, so I won't be updating too frequently. Hopefully I won't be so insanely busy that I will not be able to work on this (though it unfortunately seems that way, as this is my senior year!) _

_Thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Here's another one for you lovely people! Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

The full bottle of firewhiskey taunted him.

Percy was disgusted at how tempted he was to down the whole thing. What was he, some common drunkard? Wasn't he better than that? Didn't he have principles? He had signed his name at the bottom of the checklist, just like George had, so he couldn't back out on his promise now, right?

**Spill the booze unless you're willing to share.**

It wouldn't be the first time he had broken a promise.

Percy sighed and leaned back into the couch. This was so pointless…

Suddenly, his fireplace flared into life and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Rushing to regain composure, he grabbed the bottle and stuffed it between the cushions before straightening his glasses.

A woman's head appeared in the flames, looking prim beneath spectacles and hair tightly wrapped into a bun. She smiled politely (though it was a bit forced) at Percy.

"Mr. Percy Ignatius Weasley?" she sang out in a nasally voice.

"Uhh…yes. This is he."

The woman pursed her lips but nodded. "I have a request for a visit from the office of the Minister of Magic. Do current conditions permit your consent?"

Percy stared at her for a second as his brain sped to catch up, but then his Ministry training kicked in.

He straightened. "Yes, my present conditions are agreeable and available to the Minister whenever he so desires to call upon me."

"Well, Mr. Weasley, he desires to call upon you right now. Are you able to accept?"

Percy hesitated to respond. He had cleaned up a little bit since the day before, and hadn't had another drop of whiskey since George had left. His flat was still clean, except for the study, and he was otherwise wearing acceptable clothing.

He nodded stiffly. "Yes, I accept."

"Please wait for a moment as the Minister steps into the Floo Network. Good day, Mr. Weasley."

"Thank you, Ma'am. And you."

He bowed his head slightly as she disappeared. It was only then that the situation fully dawned on him.

The new Minister of Magic was paying _him_ a visit? Perhaps he was being arrested for committing crimes against the community. He staggered into the wall, the blood draining from his face. Would he be sent to Azkaban?

A few moments later, the fireplace flared again, and there appeared Minister Shacklebolt, resplendent in bizarrely verdant green robes.

"Minister Shacklebolt," he greeted stoically, bowing deeply. Shacklebolt just grinned at him, chuckling.

"Those Ministry dogs certainly trained people well. That's all I've been getting these days – formal bows. Makes me feel all important!"

Percy opened his mouth, but found that he didn't know what to say to such an odd remark.

"Ah, don't listen to me," Shacklebolt continued, waving his hand dismissively. "Come, now let's sit."

He sat back on the couch and stretched languidly. Percy's eyes widened imperceptibly as he thought of the whiskey bottle Shacklebolt had nearly crushed. Trying to cover his rudeness, he rushed forward to sit beside the Minister. He willed himself not to move as he carefully folded his hands onto his lap, hoping that his voice wouldn't tremble when he spoke.

"Minister, how can I assist you today? I must admit that it is rare to receive such an honorary visit—"

"Do drop the pleasantries, Mr. Weasley," Shacklebolt interrupted. "I'd prefer to just get straight down to business, if you don't mind. I don't have all the time in the world, here."

Percy blinked, tripping over his tongue. "O-Of course, Minister."

Shacklebolt sighed deeply and then glanced up at Percy, his dark eyes staring into Percy's.

"Mr. Weasley, I'm here to offer you a job back at the Ministry." When Percy opened his mouth to object, Shacklebolt held up a hand. "I am aware of your former position, Mr. Weasley, but the fact is, there aren't many good employees left to re-hire, especially now that I've fired most of the corrupt ones. Unfortunately, the half that wasn't corrupt has mostly fled the country by now, or worse. Right now, I need employees that have experience, skills and knowledge of the Ministry and its functions, and most importantly, I need those that I can trust."

Percy inhaled a shaky breath. "With all due respect, Minister, I must ask if you are aware of my familial situation—"

"I am. Arthur's a good friend of mine. I trust the Weasley name, even on those who may have made a few mistakes."

"A _few_ mistakes?" Percy blurted out before he could stop himself. His eyes widened in horror before he shook his head. "I am sorry, sir, but I am afraid that I will not be able to accept your offer—"

"Listen to me, kid," Shacklebolt cut in. "Everyone makes mistakes. Things happen, people get hurt. I'm the Minister now so I can try to help stop that, and make things right with the world again. I know you've had a rough time, but the very fact that you feel remorse about what you did proves to me that I can trust you. Believe me, I was an Auror for a long time, and I can read people. You're being too hard on yourself. And, well, to be frank, I need you. I'm about to embark on a mission to completely overhaul the Ministry from the ground up, and I need people with your expertise at the forefront." He paused for a moment. "Besides, what else are you going to do, Mr. Weasley? Or can I call you Percy?"

"Percy's fine," Percy breathed weakly. "I…I am honored, sir, though, despite my adverse thoughts on the subject, I have a feeling that I do not really have a choice in the matter."

"No, you always have a choice, son, but my gut tells me you're going to choose the right one and accept this job. Now what do you say?"

Percy swallowed heavily, thinking about it quickly. "Alright, sir. I will…accept your offer."

Shacklebolt beamed. "Excellent! I mean, I could've given you some time to think it over…"

Percy smiled feebly. "I suppose, yes, but you made some valid points. It is only logical for me to accept. Might I ask what the job will entail?"

"Well, Percy," Shacklebolt began, "It won't be the same job you had before. Instead, I would like to put you in charge of a new department I'm creating. The work won't be easy, and will mostly involve sifting through documents pre-dating Voldemort's first rise to power." Percy flinched at the name as Shacklebolt continued, undeterred, "I would like you, and the other employees I have hand-selected, to analyze and sift through all the documents involved, from employment listings to court proceedings, with an unbiased, trained eye. My goal is to sort out and resolve the corrupted materials you find, so I can start eradicating prejudiced laws inherent in the system. Do you understand?"

Percy was speechless. He was supposed to analyze _all_ the documents from nearly four decades ago? He had already been worked to the bone these past few years, staying up sometimes all night to keep up with the sheer amount of papers, and he had only been employed there for a few years. Imagine _four decades_ of documents! That would take centuries to get through!

A wry expression was on Shacklebolt's face when Percy returned from his inner musings.

"I did say that it wouldn't be easy, right? Well, now that you understand the magnitude of your task, I will assure you that you won't be alone. Like I said, you'll be the head of the department, so I'll let you organize the process any way you would like. The employees I've chosen are also some of the best out there, so I know they are willing to work hard to accomplish this. It will be challenging, but I have faith in you, Percy. Welcome to the team." He stuck out a hand and Percy shook it awkwardly, feeling faint.

"Don't worry, son. You're in good hands." Shacklebolt grinned at his joke and rose from the couch, but not before bending to remove the bottle of firewhiskey hastily stowed between the cushions. Percy opened his mouth but Shacklebolt just admired the bottle, turning it over in his hands. "Ah, Odgen's Old, huh? Good stuff. Mind if I borrow this, Percy?"

Percy just closed his mouth and nodded feebly.

"Many thanks. I could definitely use a drink. I'll repay you later!" Shacklebolt promised as he headed toward the fireplace. Over his shoulder, he called, "I expect to see you outside my office Monday at 8 a.m. sharp. My assistant, Edna, will help you adjust. Have a good rest of the weekend, Percy!" With a wave, he removed some Floo Powder from a pocket in his robes and, with a deep booming voice, uttered, "The Ministry of Magic, Minister's private chambers," and promptly vanished in a burst of green flames.

Perhaps it was the shock still wearing on him, or maybe it was the fact that he had barely eaten these past few days, but when Percy tried to stand, he suddenly found himself facing a dark tunnel surrounded by flickering green and purple lights. The next thing he knew, he was passed out on the floor.

* * *

><p>Percy groaned and began to stir when someone shook him gently. A whispered spell caused him to open his eyes as he winced and held the back of his head, where he felt a large bump throbbing painfully.<p>

"Are you alright?" asked a familiar voice.

Sitting up, Percy tried to shake off his lightheadedness before swallowing dryly.

"I…" he started, coughing, before the person handed him a cup of water.

"Here, drink this."

Percy complied and let the cool liquid soothe his throat. Closing his eyes, he sighed and tried to brace himself for what was coming.

"Thank you…Father."

His father appeared slightly uncomfortable when Percy handed him the empty cup, but even Percy couldn't ignore the sincere worry in his eyes.

"Do you need more?"

Percy shook his head, and cringed when the motion made his aching head worse.

"That's some bump there," Arthur commented idly as he poured more water into the cup and gave it to Percy, who drank it with a grimace. "And you've got cuts on your arms."

Percy stilled as he inspected them. Just that morning, he had managed to remove the last shards of glass in his arm from the episode the day before. He hadn't gotten around to concealing them yet, and wondered in horror if the Minister had noticed.

He chose to say nothing as he felt his father's intense gaze on him.

"What are you, Mum, now?" Percy muttered bitterly, trying and failing to stand up as a wave of dizziness assaulted him. His father gently pushed him down.

"Don't try to move. I'm going to try to make the swelling go down." He waved his wand and murmured a few spells. Percy involuntarily sighed in relief as the throbbing died down and coolness rushed over him.

"When was the last time you had anything to eat?" Arthur continued, his perceptive gaze sweeping over Percy's body and making him feel uncomfortable.

"I…it doesn't matter," Percy answered stiffly.

His father's gaze was penetrating, and Percy felt himself growing annoyed.

"What do you want?" he demanded testily.

Arthur was quiet for a moment as he went into the kitchen and began enchanting some food to cook. A moment later, the smell of eggs, bacon and sausage filled Percy's nose and his mouth began to salivate despite himself.

"I wanted to make sure you were alright," his father replied at last, returning to the living room with another cup of water, which he gave to Percy, who drank it grudgingly. "When George came back home yesterday, he told us he had come to see you."

"Piqued your curiosity, did it?" Percy said haughtily.

Arthur met his eyes steadily. "I saw your study."

Percy's face of drained of color, as he wondered desperately how long he had been unconscious.

"You had no right to invade my privacy like that!" he snapped furiously.

His father refused to acknowledge his rise. "Your front door was open, Percy…as if you were waiting for someone. I just let myself in."

Percy felt frustrated tears stab his eyes, and he swiftly swiped them away with the heel of his hand.

"What are you _really_ doing here?" he hissed.

Arthur sighed heavily. "I came here because I was worried about you. I know that these last few years have been…difficult…between us, but for both our sakes, and the rest of the family's, I wanted to try to make amends. Now is a time when we should be together."

"You're here to apologize?" Percy repeated laughingly.

Arthur leveled his gaze. "I am. I'm so sorry, Percy."

Staring at his father, noting the extra wrinkles that hadn't been there before, Percy was suddenly struck with emotion. Angrily blinking back tears, he had to turn away, but his father put a hand on his shoulder.

"This hasn't been easy for any of us," he said softly.

"And I suppose you want me to come home, too?"

Arthur smiled, albeit a bit sadly. "I would love for you to come home, Percy."

Something snapped inside him, and Percy's shoulders began to shake.

"Why are _you_ the one apologizing?" he cried pitifully. "_I'm_ the one that wouldn't listen… _I'm_ the one who refused to believe! _I'm_ the one who—" His words were cut off as his father abruptly pulled him into a hug, and that was the last straw. The dam broke, and Percy wept into his father's chest, feeling like he was a child again but not really minding, as the protective arms that enveloped him were strong and comforting and full of love and forgiveness. It had been so long since anyone had cared about him other than himself. Percy fought the urge to tell his father everything as he clung there and wept until no more tears would fall.

It was then that Arthur slowly extricated himself, and Percy saw that his eyes, too, were moist. Clapping a hand on Percy's shoulder, he smiled.

"I think the bacon's burning."

* * *

><p>The rest of the day was spent together in relative silence, though as Percy chomped on his slightly over-cooked eggs, he told his father about the Minister's impromptu visit.<p>

"I'm not surprised he came to you," Arthur admitted, helping himself to some tea. "The Ministry's really not doing so well at the moment. It's going to take a long time to get back to full capacity."

"Are you returning as well?" Percy asked him.

His father nodded. "Yes, though I expect I'll be more of a floater, helping the most important departments first. I'm not sure the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office will be up and running anytime soon."

Percy nodded at that and slurped up some sausage. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was.

"So…how is everything at home?" he asked awkwardly.

Arthur leaned against the counter. "Not so good. I don't think anyone's quite got a handle on their grief yet. There've been lots of close calls in the past, but nothing as serious as this. No one knows how to deal with it."

Percy was silent for a moment. "I…I'm sorry for not attending the funeral. And…for everything, really."

"It's not your fault, Percy."

"But it is!" Percy cried out brokenly, lowering his fork. "I was _there_ when it happened! I should've saved him from the blast!"

"We have no idea what could've happened if things turned out differently. Ron, Harry and Hermione were there, too, maybe one of them could've gotten hurt, or worse, instead. There's no way of knowing, and it's wrong to blame yourself." He paused for a moment. "Though I'm pretty sure we all blame ourselves anyways."

A silence fell between them as Percy finished his meal.

"Thank you for the food."

"Make sure you eat enough. Molly would never forgive me," his father replied, smiling.

"So, what now? Are you…going home?"

Arthur shrugged. "I thought I might stay to help you clean things up a bit, if you don't mind."

Percy blinked. "Oh, of course. You're welcome to."

"Shall we tackle the study first?"

Percy nodded. "Sure. Let me just get my wand."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Oh boy, senior year is going to be a killer! Hopefully I will have time at SOME point to keep writing this! Believe me, I definitely want to finish it – I just beg for your patience!_

_Thank you for your reviews!_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I am still working off of what I have written in advance, so luckily I will still be able to update regularly! Though I am hoping that I can soon get adjusted to my schedule and get back to writing this thing! 0.o _

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><p><span>Chapter 5<span>

George sneezed.

"Nice to see that this place is still a dump," he commented. "What are we doing here again?"

Lee just smiled at him from across the shed as he quickly dusted off the old, wooden table that sat in the middle of the small room.

"Thought I should create a permanent fixture for my new radio show." He grunted as he hauled a microphone-type device and some wires and antennas onto the table.

George blinked at him. "Your what?"

"Well, I can't continue Potterwatch now, can I?" Lee huffed, struggling to lift a crate of other metallic odds and ends.

George eyed the cobwebs, the tiny, dirty window and the broken chair in the corner.

"And you want this to be your new headquarters?"

Lee grinned. "Won't it be brilliant?"

George sighed. It had been a week since he had spoken with Ginny, and for some reason, he just hadn't had the energy to do much in the meantime. He had allowed his friends to visit nearly every day, though after he was incapable of offering anything but the occasional grunt, his friends had taken it upon themselves to maintain a forcefully cheery attitude in their conversations, hoping that George might be inspired to laugh, or at the very least, smile. George appreciated their effort, but he didn't see what there was to smile or laugh about, never mind talk about. What could he possibly bring to a conversation? He did nothing, and until Fred returned, he couldn't imagine doing anything else. What point was there to go on without his twin?

It was getting rather annoying, actually, always waking up in Percy's bedroom in the middle of the night and remembering that Fred had abandoned him. Usually Fred told him where he was going when they had to part; this was unlike him to be so unresponsive. George was tempted to owl him a letter, but when he sat down to write it, sudden, uncontrollable sobs made it impossible. Pesky tears. They were getting irritating, too. They burst from his eyes randomly, without reason, and he was always forced to brush them away with the back of his hand. Why was he so sad, anyways? Fred would come back. He just had to.

George just wished that he knew when.

Besides his friends, who were increasingly trying to get him out of the house, he had stopped by Percy's when he wasn't at work. He was attending meetings and conferences for most of the week, and didn't have full hours, so George was able to visit in the evening. It was then that Percy had proudly showed off the checklist with several of his tasks crossed off.

**Percy:**

**Come home.**

**Clean the study because it's nasty.**

**Spill the booze unless you're willing to share.**

Growling, George had yanked the stupid thing from him. He had wanted to put 'get a job,' but as the Minister had already done that for him, he could only add, with a hint of spite:

**Owl Penelope.**

What he hadn't expected was Percy's reaction. For a moment, his older brother's eyes had flared with indescribable pain, but he quickly masked it with his usual prim expression. George had wanted to ask him what that was all about, but Percy had whisked the checklist away before he could even open his mouth. Percy had then complained about being busy, and had effectively shooed George away.

What was Percy's problem? He had just been trying to help! He obviously missed Penelope – the fixed, framed picture was standing up on a shelf in his living room – so why was he being such a prat about it?

"George, could you hand me that?"

George shook his head, snapping himself out of his internal thoughts and back into the shack, where Lee was beginning to assemble a very odd-looking device. "Oh, sure. Here."

"Thanks, mate," Lee grunted as he twisted it into place.

"Um, Lee, what are you doing?"

"Trying to make something to amplify my signal. This has got to reach the whole country."

George stood there awkwardly and watched. "So…you really think the Ministry's going to let your program continue?"

"Why shouldn't it?" Lee asked, his face hidden behind the table. "People are still missing, and no one really knows what's going on. Communications aren't up at the Ministry yet either. And Kingsley sounded interested in the post he sent back."

"You contacted the Minister?"

Lee glanced aghast at George. "Well, yeah! He appeared on the program, too. Can't get permission from a higher source, can I?"

"And what do you want _me_ to do?" George said quickly.

Lee stood up and faced him squarely. "I was hoping you'd help me host, of course. Until you're…you know, ready to re-open the shop."

George frowned. "The shop?"

"Yeah. I mean, you _are_ going to re-open it, right? It's your dream."

"It was_ our_ dream," George muttered.

Lee looked troubled as he approached George.

"Mate, you've got to go back. People love it and need it, especially now. You can't just abandon it."

George refused to meet his eyes. "I think I'm going to head home."

"And do what?" Lee cried, his tone bridging anger. "You can't just sit around moping. I know it's only been a few weeks, but the world's not going to wait. It needs help. It needs rebuilding. We're the ones who have to do it. Besides…Fred would want you to continue with the shop. I know he would."

"What makes you think you know what Fred would want?" George snapped, suddenly annoyed. "Did he confide in you or something?"

Lee blinked, confused. "What? You both…confided in me. I don't…"

"Never mind," George mumbled, pushing his way past Lee to the door.

"George!" Lee called after him as he exited into the field. The countryside where they had found the rotting shack was beautiful this time of year. George loved listening to the grass make _wisp_ sounds in the wind.

"George, I'm sorry! You…you will come and help me won't you? I really want you to be my co-host!" Lee begged him from the doorway.

"You can get Rapier to do it," George answered under his breath as he Apparated to the Burrow.

* * *

><p>Percy sat at his desk, thrumming his fingers along the slightly stained mahogany. He couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. This was the first day of work, officially. His employees, whom he had only seen in passing at the numerous meetings they had attended, had not yet arrived, seeing as there was still a half hour left until they needed to. Percy just liked to make sure that he was on top of things and completely organized.<p>

For the umpteenth time he cycled through the papers on his desk, investigated his drawers and made sure that his quills were trimmed correctly, and that there was enough ink left in his inkpot. Satisfied that everything was in order, he began to recite his opening speech in his mind, reflecting on what the Minister had personally told him.

He jumped when an amiable voice greeted him.

"Good morning, Percy."

Snapping to attention, he nodded politely.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Good morning."

Hermione, dressed in formal robes with her hair swept somewhat neatly into a ponytail, just smirked slightly.

"You can just call me 'Hermione' if you want," she responded, amused.

Percy's lips pursed. "I would prefer if we could run our department with a bit more…" he cast around for the right word, "professionalism. Don't you agree?"

Hermione scowled. "I suppose you're right… Though we know most everyone—"

"_Most_ everyone. We would not want to offend those with whom we are not familiar," Percy interjected pointedly as Hermione just sighed heavily. As much as he respected Hermione, he couldn't help but feel unnerved by her presence. She was another tenuous link to his family – he had learned from George that she was now dating Ron – and it made him uncomfortable. It didn't help that the Minister had asked her to step in as the department's co-head, even though Percy knew it was only temporary, as she was planning to return to Hogwarts to complete her N.E.W.T.s in the fall. He had a feeling that the Minister had asked her there on purpose to provide a counter-balance to Percy's authority because he didn't fully trust him.

"Thank you for arriving a few minutes early, as I requested. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of the plan for today."

"Percy…I mean, _Mr. Weasley_, I _did _attend the same meetings you did. I'm aware of the operations of this department." She paused to give Percy a small smile. "You don't have to be so nervous, you know. Everything will work out fine."

_Easy for you to say_, he wanted to retort. _You're not the one whose loyalty is being tested_.

Instead, he returned her smile stiffly. "Thank you for your assurances."

There was an awkward silence before Hermione spoke up.

"How are you?" she asked in a gentler, sincere tone. "You haven't come around the Burrow yet. Your family's worried."

Percy forced a lump down his throat as he scoffed. "I highly doubt that."

"It's true," she insisted, lightly placing her hand on his. "They all are. And I know Ron's really upset, too. We were all there when it happened. Maybe we could get together and…talk about it?"

Percy pulled his hand away. "This is hardly appropriate conversation for the moment, Hermi—Miss Granger."

Hermione sighed again as she slowly retracted her hand. "Right. Well, if you ever want to—"

"Ah, here come the others," Percy interrupted, standing up straight as eight young men and women entered the hall, all wearing formal robes. They all had somewhat similar, ordinary features and all hailed from Hogwarts, though Percy didn't recognize a few of them.

As they came to stand at attention, he nodded to each of them with a polite smile.

"Good morning, everyone. My name is Percy Weasley. I am the head of the Office of Investigative Resources, a new sub-section under the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. This is Hermione Granger, my co-head for the rest of the summer." He gestured to Hermione, who smiled warmly.

Percy then indicated the room. "This will be our new headquarters for the time being, and I apologize for the lack of space. Most of the Ministry is currently undergoing reconstruction, so I tried to arrange for the quietest area possible so we can concentrate on our work. As you can see, you will each have your own desk." He paused to point out the two rows of four desks laid out in front of his own, with Hermione's off to his right. "And based on the schedule which I have devised, we will be rotating duties, so you will not have to be sitting at your desk all day."

Hermione stepped forward, and with a nod from Percy, continued the spiel.

"Every few hours, a new person will be selected to run to the archives and bring more documents up to the office. Also, we don't want anyone getting stressed or over-worked, so even if you are still at your desk, feel free to take breaks when you need to—"

"To avoid eye strain," Percy added.

"Yes, to avoid eye strain and to clear your head. Anyways, there will be a lot to get through, but if we work together, I know we will be able to overturn a lot of these unfair laws."

"Do keep in mind, though," Percy continued, "that if you have a question about anything, please consult one another, or Miss Granger, or myself. The ones that require decisions above our stations will get sent to the Minister. If everyone is busy and you still have a question, please deposit the item or items in the receptacle on my desk with labels indicating their degree of importance. Now, to get started, I would like to show you all the way to the archives and point out how you can locate specific categories of material. You all did complete the forms indicating your preferences, correct?"

There was a collective nod, and as Percy hesitated, he couldn't help but disapprove of some of their bored faces and fidgety stances. Did they not appreciate the immensity of their task? They had agreed to partake in this process; shouldn't they have been showing a little more enthusiasm?

"Wait, Mr. Weasley," Hermione called out as he turned to lead them to the basement.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Before we get started, I was thinking of having everyone introduce themselves. Not everyone knows each other, and if we're going to be working together..."

Flustered, Percy nodded quickly. "Yes, of course. Do go on, Miss Granger."

"Right, well, how about we start with you, Terry?"

A boy with brown hair and brown eyes smiled. "Thanks, Hermione."

Percy opened his mouth to correct him with a 'Miss Granger,' but closed his mouth when Terry started.

"My name's Terry Boot. I was in Ravenclaw and I fought at the last battle with Dumbledore's Army. And I have to say, I'm glad we won!" Snickers emerged from the others as Terry grinned. "Though I can't help but wonder how it all happened. Seriously, Hermione, what were you lot doing all last year?"

"Yeah, what happened with you guys?" Michael Corner, a black-haired and brown-eyed boy added. "The D.A. wasn't really the same without you, eh, Terry?"

"Definitely not," Terry agreed, nodding at his friend.

"Well," Hermione hedged. "I'm not sure if we want everyone to know just yet. I was thinking of writing a book, though, explaining it all so it can't be misconstrued."

The group responded with interested, affirmative noises as a ginger-haired girl down the line smiled eagerly.

"That sounds like a brilliant idea, Hermione!" the girl, Susan Bones encouraged. Next to her, a dark-haired and dark-eyed girl nodded.

"I agree with Susan. I would definitely read it. Oh, I'm Leanne by the way, Leanne Tomi."

"Oh, and I'm Michael Corner. Guess I forgot we were doing introductions."

Hermione smiled at them. "Thank you, Michael. Is there anything you wanted to add, Susan or Leanne?"

"Um, just that I'm glad to be here, I guess," Susan said shyly.

"Me, too. Glad to know that I can be useful somehow."

"_I_ have a question," an impatient male voice asked abruptly. He was blond, with brown eyes glaring beneath furrowed brows. His arms were crossed over his chest.

"Yes, Ernie?" Hermione asked.

Ernie Macmillan jerked his thumb in the direction of the boy at the end, who was scowling beneath a mop of curly black hair. "What's _he_ doing here?"

"Same as you, Macmillan," he spat.

"Really? Because I don't distinctly recall our duties being _infiltrating_ and _sabotaging_ the Ministry!" Ernie retorted.

Hermione held up her hands. "What are you talking about?" She turned to the dark-haired boy. "Um, would you mind introducing yourself?"

"Adrian Pucey. And yes, I was in Slytherin. But I _wasn't_ a Death Eater!"

"Did you fight in the final battle? I'm not sure I saw you there, _Pucey_!" Ernie mocked.

"Ernie, stop," Hermione said, but he plowed on.

"Were you hiding behind the ranks of the Death Eaters like the other cowards in your house? Or were you back home, hiding with your mum?"

Adrian opened his mouth, a hideous expression contorting his face, as a booming voice halted him.

"Enough!" Percy bellowed, glaring sternly at the group. "I will _not_ tolerate fighting between us. Our work is too important for that. _Need _I remind you that we were all personally inspected and chosen by the _Minister of Magic_?" His icy tone whipped them into submission as they fell back into place, looking shamefaced. "If you have a problem with any of his selections, take it up with the Minister or myself, _not_ with each other! Do I make myself clear? _Do I?_"

"Yes, sir," chorused eight embarrassed voices.

"Good. Now continue. We were on you, Miss-?"

"MacDougal, Morag MacDougal." She shrugged nonchalantly before flipping her strawberry blond hair. "There's not too much interesting about me. I didn't fight in the final battle because I was hiding in Scotland with my grandparents. Otherwise, that's it."

Percy nodded. "Alright well, nice to meet you, Miss MacDougal. Last but not least, we have you." He turned to glance down at a small girl with glasses and a blond bob. She smiled timidly.

"I'm Audrey Littleton. I…like to read, so that's why I'm here. I wanted to help the Ministry in any way I could."

"Thank you, Miss Littleton, and thank you everyone. I do hope we can all learn to get along." Percy pointedly narrowed his eyes at Ernie and Adrian. "Anyways, now that we have all met, let's get started."

The rest of the day was spent trying to relay a dizzying amount of information to the new recruits, some of whom had trouble remembering some of the more minor details. Percy, for one, tried not to get too frustrated at some of their complete lack of organization, but couldn't help snapping a few times to give them reminders.

Luckily, Hermione was quite good at easing the tension in the room, and Percy found his respect for her steadily increasing. By the end of the exhausting day, he was very glad she was his co-head. She was exactly the kind of person he needed to be in charge when he couldn't.

As the others packed up their things, Percy realized suddenly that he had been so busy with work that he had worked straight through lunch and tea. Oh well. It wasn't like he felt hungry. Looking up to wish the others goodbye, he leaned back in his chair and reflected on the day.

It had gone mostly according to plan, and he knew it would get smoother once they got used to the workload. He was pleased that they all seemed quite serious about it, once they sat down and concentrated. Bones had especially stood out with her prowess over the legal documents they found, and the sheer volume of work that Littleton had managed was additionally promising.

Percy sighed, tired but content. Things seemed like they would work out just fine.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Oh Percy, I am not sure you're right about that...haha!_

_Also, woot woot for canon characters!  
><em>

_And again, thank you so much for your reviews! They truly brighten my day! :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Here's another for all of you, and happy autumn! I am home for fall break at the moment, so hopefully I can get enough done to start the next chapter on this story! All of the characters have been nagging me lately to write more, so let's see what happens!_

_REMINDER! George's wand was taken away by his mother early in the story, so he does not have it right now. My beta forgot that bit when she was reading and got confused, so I thought I'd avoid that with all of you!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 6<span>

A month passed. George ambled around the house doing odd jobs, helping his mother in the kitchen or the garden, sweeping floors, cleaning the attic, anything to keep his hands busy so he could keep his mind numb. Still, nagging thoughts managed to trickle in every once in a while.

How was it that Fred had not returned yet? They had never been apart for so long a time, and it was downright cruel. Now, every time he tried to think of doing something with his life, he had to stop himself because Fred wasn't there. There was nothing he could do without his twin. That was just the way it was.

He did, however, manage to check off a few items on the checklist. Before returning to Romania, Charlie had insisted that George, along with Bill, who was moving back into Shell Cottage with his wife, accompany him on what he called 'The Last Fling;' it involved going to a pub in town and getting raging drunk. George honestly couldn't remember most of the conversations they had had, though he was positive they adhered to Percy's guidelines. He did recall certain fragments though, mostly because they included memories of Fred when he and George were little and Bill and Charlie had been forced to babysit them. Oh the havoc they had wreaked upon the Burrow! George had laughed uproariously at some of the stories, vaguely recalling some of the details from his own memory, but hearing drunk Charlie and Bill complaining at the top of their lungs sent him over the edge.

Their mother had been less than pleased when they stumbled through the door the next morning, hung-over out of their minds, though she had toned down the yelling slightly due to the fact that his brothers _had_ managed to drag him out of the house.

George was starting to get the feeling that he was becoming less than welcome at home. At every possible moment, it seemed that _someone_ was trying to shoo him out by suggesting random outings that he could do, or places he could visit. These were repeated so often that even his mum was starting to lose any trace of subtlety. Her "Oh dear, I've run out of this" eventually became "Go the market and pick this up."

Of course, it wasn't just his mum. Lee was increasingly trying to bribe George into embracing his new radio show. George had agreed to help him set it up, but he couldn't foresee himself acting as co-host. He didn't much like talking anymore, and knew he couldn't be the funny sidekick that Lee wanted. He just didn't have it in him.

On top of that, his other friends continually pestered him, though their efforts were waning. As they moved on with their lives and got jobs and flats, they had less and less time to spend with George, so their visits became more infrequent. George could tell they were silently relieved. He knew he wasn't much fun to hang around with anymore. That fact emphasized itself every time Katie or Angelina brought up the joke shop. They all wanted him to re-open it, told him it was a positive step in his recovery, but he couldn't do it. How could he, without Fred? They had built the place with their dreams, and had worked long hours for years experimenting with products to come up with new, exciting things to sell. Their drive to succeed and their love for the business had made it thrive.

But they had been a _team_. They had worked off each other's strengths, challenged each other, dared each other to go one step further. Now, George had no inspiration, no motivation. He was stuck with his own strengths and weaknesses, and how far could those take him? He had no one to make him better, and no one to make him care anymore. His friends just didn't understand that.

George sighed.

He was currently in Ron's bedroom with a broom, about to provide some much-needed manual cleaning as he had promised his mother, but now he was regretting it. Though Ron was busy with Harry doing Auror business, Ron would be angry at George for touching his stuff.

Then again, Ron was angry at everything lately. He had been so strange this past month, eating and speaking noticeably less, and snapping at everyone every time he came home from the Ministry. It had gotten to the point where George didn't even want to approach him, no longer caring about the bloody checklist.

That was why, when sudden stomping footsteps echoed up the stairs, George panicked, imagining Ron's furious expression. Grabbing the broom, he quickly dashed out of Ron's bedroom only to crash into a very determined Angelina.

"Angelina?" he asked feebly.

"George! Good, I'm glad I found you."

George glanced at her nervously, noticing the strange glint in her eye. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." Angelina glared at him and put her hands on her hips. "You know, I think it's about _time_ that you got out of here. Don't you think so?" When George didn't answer, Angelina pushed him back into the wall.

"Ugh! I'm so SICK and TIRED of your moping around!" she cried, accentuating her words by jabbing her finger into his chest. "_You_ are coming with me, NOW."

George just stared at her somewhat fearfully.

Angelina smiled evilly and before he could protest, she was dragging him down the stairs and out the back door. "We're going to Side-Along Apparate," she informed him on the way, pulling out her wand.

"Why not just tell me where we're going?" George complained. "Wouldn't that be easier?"

Angelina shook her head. "No. It's a surprise."

George's gut clenched at that, and the ache throbbed hopefully. It had been hiding lately, unable to prey upon George's emotions as he had not felt any for a while. George had hoped that it was gone, but it seemed that he was cursed to have it leech off his body forever.

"Angelina, I don't think—" he started unsurely, but was cut off as the familiar sensation gripped him and he suddenly found himself in a familiar town he hadn't visited in years. Although a little worse for the wear, Hogsmeade was bustling again as wizards and witches helping clean up Hogwarts stopped by to take a break and enjoy the peaceful, pleasant accommodations.

The last time George had been there…

He could practically hear Fred speaking to him as Angelina gently hooked his arm in hers and led him down High Street. Nearly every shop had re-opened, and as they passed the Three Broomsticks, they heard boisterous laughter echoing from within – no doubt a celebration as old friends and acquaintances reunited after the war.

There was one shop, though, that was still dark. Angelina stopped them before it and glanced at George.

"I tried owling the owner, but my post came back to me. I don't think he's going to re-open it. Now's your chance."

Despite the warmth of mid-June, George began to shiver. His teeth chattered as he frowned fiercely at the store he and his brother had loved.

"This isn't funny!" he gritted out, furious that he was shaking so badly.

Angelina's face was a mask of worry as she looked at George with anxious eyes.

"George, are you alright?" she asked tremulously.

"I said, _this isn't funny!_ Why should I care about Zonko's?"

"But…you and Fred talked about making it an outlet of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes…"

George's eyes flashed dangerously. "Just _don't_! It doesn't matter what we said! Fred isn't here right now, remember? The bastard!"

Angelina was taken aback by his words, and didn't know how to react as George flung her arm away.

"You shouldn't've taken me here. I'm going back."

"George, wait!" she called pleadingly as George Apparated back to the Burrow. Breathing heavily, he slammed open the door and stalked into the kitchen. He thought he was going to explode. He could feel it all boiling right beneath the surface, and desperately needed to hurt something, break something, rip something to shreds. He thought about tearing out his hair, but felt much more satisfied when he reached into the cabinet and began throwing glass and porcelain plates around the kitchen, causing them to shatter. He didn't stop until hands were enclosed over his own, and he was pulled into the warm chest of his tearful mother. Vaguely, he heard Angelina apologize sobbingly in the background as his mum just held him, though he couldn't bring himself to hug her back. After a few moments, his abrupt rage faded, and he felt nothing again.

Pulling away from his mum, George eyed the mess he had made and wordlessly began to pick up the pieces, not noticing when they cut his hands.

* * *

><p>Percy rubbed his eyes wearily as he squinted at another document on his desk. Suddenly, the sound of a bell pealed through the air, and he heard the collective, relieved sighs of his employees at the announcement for lunch.<p>

Looking up, he watched them gather together and start chatting as they headed out to their private courtyard to enjoy some sunshine. He felt like a proud parent watching them go, happy that they had all somewhat bonded, and glad that they were doing so well together. They had truly become quite a team these past few weeks, despite a bit of a rocky start. It seemed that the House lines drawn at their very first meeting held deep prejudices that none had been willing to bridge. That was until Littleton, the small, efficient Hufflepuff, had started asking Pucey, a former Slytherin, for advice. Percy had to admit that he was impressed by her morals, especially in the face of the others, like Macmillan, but she had firmly stood her ground and once Pucey began to relax around her, the others began to approach him, too. It appeared that Pucey had a particularly strong aptitude for recognizing when deceptively-worded phrases held second, more sinister, meanings. It was a skill the others, particularly Littleton, seemed to find extremely helpful at times.

Percy couldn't help but smile a bit just thinking about it. Pucey and Littleton certainly seemed to spend a lot of time together. Though he was against work relationships, as it was completely unprofessional, he felt somewhat satisfied that he had indirectly brought them together. Merlin knew that love was hard to find these days.

"You're not going to join us for lunch again, I take it?"

Percy glanced up and barely controlled his desire to snap at Hermione. Although the girl had good intentions, he didn't like that she had started to meddle in his affairs. Apparently Hermione had spoken to his mother about him, and now almost every night after work, Percy had to endure a call from her via the Floo Network. Worse – his mother had also insisted upon visiting at least once a week. It was all Percy could do to assure her that he was fine and that he didn't need her to constantly check up on him; after all, his father was already doing that occasionally, and though George had stopped coming recently, he much preferred his brother's sullen visits over his mother's hysterics. She was always trying to force-feed him something or other, and he was already running out of excuses. How could he help it if he wasn't very hungry anymore?

Though, if he were to be honest with himself, it wasn't his lack of hunger that alarmed him, it was his insomnia. He would wake up in the middle of the night, every night, with that same image burned into his mind… Fred's laugh, the ghost of his smile… Percy knew Fred didn't forgive him, which was why the nightmares continued to plague him. For some reason, though, even when he took Sleeping Draughts, he still felt weak and fatigued, forcing him to resort to Invigoration Draughts just to get through the day. He knew that neither was particularly good for his body, especially when somewhat mixed, but now, thanks to Hermione's pesky interfering, he had to go to great lengths to hide the toll it was taking, and that just wore him out even more.

"No, thank you," he stiffly answered Hermione, refusing to meet her eyes. He could feel her troubled gaze on him, but stubbornly kept his eyes on his desk.

"You do need to take a break sometime, Percy," she said sincerely. "It's not healthy for you to keep pushing yourself."

"I do not need to be lectured on my work ethic, _Miss Granger_," Percy reminded her.

He heard Hermione sigh as she reluctantly joined the rest of the employees outside. Percy involuntarily released his own relieved sigh at her departure, before jumping when a voice startled him.

"Mr. Weasley?"

He raised his eyes and met the light blue of Audrey Littleton's.

"Ah, Miss Littleton!" he said in surprise. "Do you have a question?"

Audrey shyly held up her lunch bag. "Um…actually…I was wondering if I might join you for lunch? You always seem to…take it at your desk. I mean, if you're busy I understand!" she added hurriedly.

Percy's mind sluggishly comprehended her words, and at last he nodded and gestured for her to pull up a chair when they registered.

_She must have a concern she cannot voice to the others_, he thought to himself.

Timidly she sat across from him as he absentmindedly shuffled some papers to allow her room.

"Do you…have a lunch, sir?"

Percy avoided her gaze. "I…forgot mine today," he hedged. Quickly regaining composure, he sat forward and steepled his fingers.

"So, Miss Littleton, how can I help you? Are you…satisfied with your work?"

Audrey, who had just taken a small bite of a ham sandwich, chewed quickly.

"Oh, yes, sir! Very satisfied!"

"No complaints about your co-workers?"

"No, not at all." Audrey assumed a confused expression.

"Is there a problem with your salary? I realize it is not much, but the Ministry is working to fix that—"

"No, there's not a problem, sir."

Percy gazed at her, perplexed. "Then what, may I ask, appears to be the trouble?"

Audrey looked similarly bewildered. "Trouble? There's no trouble, Mr. Weasley. I was just hoping to….to speak with you."

"About what?" Percy persisted.

Audrey bit her lip, her eyes flickering around the room in embarrassment.

"I just…umm…well…I guess it's nothing!" she breathed nervously, standing up suddenly. She bowed. "Thank you for your time, sir!" she said quickly as she darted away.

Percy blinked after her and then shrugged.

_Poor girl. She'll tell me when she's ready, I suppose. Hopefully the problem won't be too compounded by then._

A few more weeks passed as Percy waited patiently for Littleton to reveal her situation to him, though it seemed to have resolved itself. She was the same, polite, hard-working girl as always, though lately he had caught her conversing secretly with Hermione, and when she looked at him, there was something new in her eyes, something he couldn't quite explain but found unnerving. It bothered him that Hermione seemed to be poisoning one of their best workers, but who was he to prevent them from talking?

After that, Percy noticed that Littleton started watching him more. He would feel unsettled and look up, only to catch her glimpse before she turned away. What had Hermione _told_ her?

But he couldn't think about that right now.

It was the end of a long week. Percy had had to work extra hours to fit in meetings with the Minister to go over some of the more pressing files they had come across. Because of that, he had been forced to use more Invigoration Draughts than normal, and the side-effects of the over-dosage, plus the latent effects of the Sleeping Draughts, were making it difficult for him to keep his eyes open, never mind just focus on the documents splayed before him. He felt jittery and nauseous and hot, and dreaded having to brew more of those draughts. This brutal week had really depleted his supply, and without them, he didn't know how long he could convince his mother and his employees that he wasn't rapidly deteriorating. On top of that, without the energy he got from the potion, it was becoming increasingly difficult to cast the charms he needed to hide his true appearance from everyone, and that distressed him the most.

Percy _needed_ this job. He would do anything to keep it. _Anything_.

Peering at the paper in his hands, Percy sat up in his chair and fought the urge to run to the loo.

_I am _not_ going to be sick!_

But no matter how many times he kept telling himself that, the feeling that he was going to vomit did not go away. Instead, it only intensified. He couldn't imagine what he looked like, having fought the illness all morning, but when his workers came back after lunch, most of them shot him concerned glances and a few even approached to ask him if he was alright. Luckily for him, it was easy to placate them, and Hermione was out of the office that day, having been called to the Minister's room for a special meeting with Ron and Harry, so Percy didn't have to worry about her bothering him.

By the end of the day, he felt terrible but also somewhat relieved that no one had overly pestered him about his condition. Although he was grateful for their concern, they didn't need to waste their energy worrying about him. They had much more important work to do.

Echoing voices interrupted him and he blinked rapidly as Boot and Corner stood across from him.

"Sir, we were wondering if you'd want to join us tonight. We're thinking of going out to the pub to celebrate our first month of having jobs!" Boot laughed, and the harsh sound made Percy cringe.

"Thank you, Mr. Boot," Percy managed, turning his wince into a strained smile. "But I am feeling a bit under the weather today—"

"I _told_ you," Corner cut in, jabbing an elbow into his friend's side, before eyeing Percy again, his expression gentle. "You look awful, sir. I suggest you take it easy tonight."

"I was just being polite!" Boot insisted. "We invited everyone else!"

Percy blinked to try to focus his vision, but gave up. "I do thank you for your invitation, Mr. Boot, though I daresay I will consent to Mr. Corner's suggestion."

"You lot coming?" came a yell from MacDougal as she giggled shrilly with Tomi and Bones at her side.

"Do come on, gents!" Macmillan insisted, waving and smiling as Pucey joined him.

"Right, well…" Boot started, clearly anxious to leave.

"Go enjoy yourselves," Percy encouraged. "But do not over-indulge yourselves. I still expect you here, bright and early, on Monday morning."

"Yes, sir, of course!" Boot and Corner grinned as they bowed and trailed after the others.

Percy watched their fuzzy forms disappear before starting to gather his things. His vision kept jumping around, though, and it was hard to make sure he had all the right files in order, as he fully anticipated working through the weekend. This time, though, he wasn't sure he would be able to finish everything. He set his goal to finish half, but when he stood up, the papers flew out of his hands as his legs crumpled beneath him. His head hit the floor with a dull thud and he heard a shriek from somewhere far away.

"Sir, sir, are you alright?" came a frantic voice.

Dimly, Percy realized that someone was cradling his head in their lap. Apparently, not all of his employees had left as he had thought.

"Sir—oh Merlin!" Her breathy voice was tight with shock and Percy had the sinking feeling that his charms had dissolved. "We need to go to St. Mungo's right away! Hold on; I'm going to call for help!"

"No, Littleton," he gasped, faintly recognizing her. "Not…not there…" His image would be completely ruined in that terribly public place. He couldn't let anyone see him like this!

"Then where? Your home? The…the Burrow?"

Percy tried to concentrate on her face, but the only flashes of clarity revealed that she was sobbing quietly.

"No," he croaked, struggling to sit up, but that only caused his vision to darken further. He knew he was losing consciousness and fought to stay awake. "M-my…bring me…" But it was too much. His head sagged backward as her anxious voice trilled in his mind, and then was silent.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Uh-oh, cliffhanger! I hate reading them, as they torment me so, but I take evil pleasure in writing them, haha!_

_As for reviews, I appreciate them greatly! Thanks so much for those of you who are following my story! _


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Okay, I felt bad for leaving you with such a huge cliffhanger, so here's the chapter earlier than expected!_

_Honestly, I'm a bit nervous about this chapter, mostly because of Audrey! She exists in canon, but we know nothing about her, so it was up to me to create her. After thinking about someone who would work with Percy, she popped into my head and I knew she was great – I just hope that's represented on the page! I'm really curious what you think of her and really scared at the same time! 0.o_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 7<span>

The first thing that Percy was aware of was that he was lying on a lovely, soft bed, and for once, he felt comparatively well-rested. Had he actually fallen asleep the night before? Without the Sleeping Draught? But that was impossible!

His memories swiftly caught up to him, and his eyes flew open. Percy knew the moment they focused that he was not anywhere he recognized. Without realizing it, he felt his breath grow short as he began to panic. The room was small and homey, but he was alone and it smelled foreign to him. Straining to sit up, he nearly screamed when the latched door swung open to reveal none other than Littleton with a tray in her hands.

She yelped at seeing him awake, but quickly put the tray down on a table as she rushed to his bedside and forced him to lie back down. Percy didn't argue as an overwhelming sense of vertigo washed over him.

"Miss Littleton," he gasped.

"Mr. Weasley, sir, how are you feeling?" she asked, her voice trembling as she spoke hesitantly. "I'm…terribly sorry! I didn't…I didn't know where to take you so I just brought you to our cottage. That is, my father's and mine. I just…I didn't know what you were saying. You…you passed out before…before I could understand. I hope…you don't mind."

Percy closed his eyes as the world spun. "Your…cottage, Miss Littleton?"

"Yes. And you can call me Audrey if you like. I mean, now that we're not at work… You don't have to, of course…"

Percy blinked slowly. "Right. Well…Audrey, I don't want to be an imposition…"

"Oh no, sir, not at all!" Audrey rushed to say. "I couldn't possibly make you leave now! You're…dreadfully ill, sir. I had to look up some remedies in my old textbooks, but I think they should work." She glanced at the doorway. "I'm brewing a potion now that should help you feel better. And…I've started a soup, if you're hungry. If…if I might ask, sir, when's the last time you ate anything?"

Percy struggled to comprehend her words past the thick fog in his mind. "Eat?" he spoke feebly. "Yes, of course…I…must've…" Frowning, Percy realized he had no idea when he had last eaten anything substantial. He had thought his weight loss was a by-product of the potions…

Audrey swallowed as she went and retrieved the tray, upon which a small bowl of soup steamed pleasantly. It smelled good, but Percy's stomach roiled.

"I don't…" Percy started.

"Oh, right," Audrey breathed, setting the tray down on the nightstand. "Well, you might be more inclined after drinking the Cleansing Potion. It should be done now." She swept out of the room and returned with a steaming goblet of a silvery liquid in her hand. Offering it to him, he accepted it but hesitated to drink.

"It's a Cleansing Potion," she explained, "It negates the effects of all potions in your system. Hermione and I…suspected you might be taking something."

Percy grimaced as he gulped it down, sighing in relief when the aftertaste was peppermint-flavored. Almost instantly, he felt ten times better. He glanced at Audrey, who had taken a seat next to him.

"Ah, so that's what you two were talking about," he commented, reaching for the soup.

"It's light, so you should be able to eat it easily," she said, pausing as he spooned up a portion and sipped at it. It was indeed light, though the broth hinted of basil.

"Yes, thank you, Miss…Audrey," Percy corrected himself clumsily, feeling like an intruder in her home.

Audrey smiled shyly. "Have as much as you like."

"You're…very kind."

There was an awkward pause as Audrey sighed.

"We were…worried about you, you know. Sir."

"You and Hermione?"

"Yes. She told me…what happened. With your brother."

Percy involuntarily stiffened as Audrey continued in a small, sad voice.

"I know…what it's like. I lost my brother, too."

Percy, startled, met her eyes. "What happened?" he blurted. "Oh, I'm sorry, that's rude of me—"

"No, it's alright," she insisted. "His name was Jake. He was my older brother, always looked out for me." Her eyes became wistful as she stared into the distance. "It was always just the three of us, my brother, my father and me."

"Your mother?" he asked gently.

"She died when I was young. I don't think either of them ever got over it. But we were happy enough. Jake was just…he was too reckless. He wanted to fight when You-Know-Who returned. He wanted to oppose the Death Eaters, but my father wanted us to flee the country. Jake fought with him, and they argued constantly. I guess it didn't help that I was still at school." She paused to draw a shaky breath.

Percy, who had stopped eating to listen, leaned forward. "You don't have to tell me," he said quietly.

Audrey shook her head, a sad smile on her lips as she met his gaze. "I want to. Because I know what you're going through right now." She lowered her eyes and resumed her story, practically whispering it.

"It was about a year ago when it happened. The Death Eaters came to our door. I was home, by that point, as my father had withdrawn me from Hogwarts. My father was out, and my brother…I think he knew what was coming. He hid me, cloaked me in undetectable spells that we had been preparing for weeks. But he didn't put them on himself." Tears brimmed in her eyes. "He stood up to them, and I heard them hurt him and then…kill him. And for so long I blamed myself for not helping. For not realizing his true intentions. For hiding when I could have fought and died beside him. But you know what?" she looked at Percy with abrupt fierceness as her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "It wasn't my fault. It took me a long time to realize and accept that truth, but when I did, it was so much easier. You need to realize it too."

Percy, so absorbed in her story, froze when she spoke directly to him. His heart was pounding, and he felt his body heat rise as he roughly returned the soup to the tray and stood up, purposefully ignoring his lightheadedness.

"Miss Littleton, I appreciate your advice and I am very sorry for your loss. But you know _barely half_ of my situation, and I would thank you not to interfere in my personal business!" His words came out more forcefully than he intended, and felt ashamed when she flinched and tears squeezed out of her eyes.

"But sir, please, listen—"

"Miss Littleton, we are work associates. I did not request your help, and though I am grateful for what you have done for me, I have to ask you to disregard my personal situation and focus on your work," he spoke vehemently. "Now, if you don't mind, if you could point me to my things, I will take my leave."

When she didn't answer, Percy strode past her into a humble kitchen where he saw the potion she had been brewing hanging in a cauldron over the fireplace. Noticing his briefcase on the counter, he went over to grab it as Audrey emerged from the bedroom.

"Don't you get it?" she cried. "You need help! You're killing yourself!"

Percy scooped up a handful of Floo Powder from a jar on the mantle and turned to face her coldly.

"And why should you care, Miss Littleton?"

He watched as a devastated expression overcame her. Her mouth parted, but her lips only trembled, and Percy knew it was time to go.

And as he stepped into the green flames, he could've sworn that the sound of weeping followed him.

* * *

><p>George yawned and stretched. The day was warm, the grass was green, and the sunshine was bright as it shined into his eyes. He had been starting to feel like a ghost, never leaving the house, becoming paler and paler. Of course, with his genetics, that kind of came with the package, but it was still nice to get some fresh air, especially if that meant avoiding his family.<p>

Not that anyone was home at the moment, but he knew his mum would be back soon to heckle him, and Lee would probably stop by to persuade him to join the radio show, as usual. Then, when his dad came home, he would nonchalantly pass by George's bedroom (formerly Percy's), attempt to strike up a conversation about nothing, and then sigh in disappointment. Oh, and then Ron would come home, slam doors, stomp around like a giant, and tear into anyone within range. The pleasantness at the Burrow just never ended.

George found it easier and easier nowadays to just stop communicating entirely with his crazy family, though he had to curse Percy's foresight when they were drafting the W.Y.S.K.Y. Checklist. That checklist was the only thing he allowed to occupy his mind lately, but every time he reflected on the goals Percy had set for him, he despaired at their implausibility. It was hard enough getting up in the morning knowing he had nothing to accomplish.

Suddenly, George was startled out of his ruminations by two loud_ cracks_ followed by raised voices. Propping himself up on his elbows, he glanced over to enjoy the show.

"What the bloody hell's wrong with you?" Harry was demanding, squarely facing Ron, who had a livid expression and a tightened jaw. _Typical_, George thought idly.

"What's the bloody hell's wrong with _you?_ Why'd you take us out of there so early?" Ron shot back.

"I wasn't taking _us_ out of there; I was taking _you_ out of there!" Harry retorted.

Ron scoffed. "Oh, so now _you_ get to make the calls? I thought we were still in training! Or wait, just because you're Harry Potter you get to be the boss now?"

Harry growled and began to pace, visibly trying and failing to control his fury.

"That's not how it is—"

"That's _exactly_ how it is!" Ron yelled. "They don't want me out there! Who am I, compared to the _glorious and almighty Harry Potter?_"

Harry looked about to yank out his hair in frustration. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Look, Ron, I pulled you out of there because you disobeyed protocol."

"How do you reckon that?" Ron demanded heatedly.

"Our orders were to capture the target and wait for the rest of the team to assemble _before_ interrogating him. Remember?"

"Well, _sorry_ for wanting to get the information out of him before his pals could come bail him out!"

"Ron, he was just a kid. He didn't deserve to be whaled into like that!"

"He was a _Death Eater_, Harry! Who knows how many people he's tortured and killed!"

"But we don't _know_ that for sure, Ron! The information's spotty! We're following leads of leads here!" Harry blew out a long breath and both were silent for a few moments. "Can I be honest with you, mate?"

"Please, I would hate for you to hold back," Ron muttered sarcastically.

"I'm being serious!"

Ron glared at him but huffed, slightly calmer. "Fine."

"Don't get mad, but I'm not sure this whole Auror thing is right for you."

"What do you mean it's not right for me? I _want_ to do it!" Ron exploded.

"But I don't think you _should_. I think you're still upset…about Fred."

"Christ, you sound like Hermione!" Ron scoffed.

"And she's right! I've been thinking about it a lot, and with what happened today… I just think you should take some time off and figure things out."

"Oh, and you're the expert now?"

"On grief and loss, I like to think so, yes," Harry replied stiffly.

Ron had the decency to look slightly ashamed at that, but still jutted out his jaw stubbornly.

"So I'm kicked off the Auror squad. What am I supposed to do now?"

Harry raked a hand through his hair as he thought it over and at last shrugged.

"I dunno. Maybe…try talking to George or something. He's handling things much worse."

"Handling things?" Ron repeated dubiously. "He's not _even_ handling things! I haven't so much as heard a word out of him in weeks!"

"Well…there you go," Harry said weakly, trying to crack a smile. They shuffled their feet awkwardly for a moment before Ron spoke up in a much quieter voice.

"You're heading back, then?"

"Yeah, I should."

Ron sighed. "Right. Well…bye, then."

"Yeah. See you later." Harry Disapparated with another _crack_, and George was left staring at Ron, who suddenly looked so sad and vulnerable that George surprised himself by sitting up and waving him over.

Ron blinked, surprised at George's proximity, as he approached and plopped down beside him.

Ron sighed and grimaced. "I suppose you heard all of that?"

"The part where you beat up a kid, or the part where you no longer have a job?"

Ron scowled. "Nice to hear that you've started talking again." He paused. "So are you going to rat me out?"

George shrugged. "Maybe. If I feel so inclined." There was a short silence as George determined to check Ron off the list. "So, what was with the kid? Did he look at you funny? Call you names?"

How strange that teasing his younger brother could come back so easily, George mused.

Ron, despite being annoyed, also seemed a bit relieved.

"Nah. Yours and Fred's were always the worst, so nothing else really bothered me," he joked, trying to crack a grin, though it didn't quite work. He sighed painfully. "I dunno. I guess I just…lost it. Every time I see a Death Eater, I think of Fred, and it makes me want to bash their faces in. I want them…to pay for what they did."

George, his good mood fading, uncomfortably shifted positions so he was facing away from his younger brother. _Damn that bloody checklist to hell!_

A long silence stretched between them.

"Hey George?" Ron murmured at last.

George grunted in reply.

"Are you…mad at me?"

George rolled back over to see if Ron was fooling around, but there was dead seriousness in his eyes.

"No, I'm not mad at you," he said sincerely. "Why would you think that?"

"You've been avoiding me since…well, since Fred died."

George swallowed heavily, refusing to acknowledge the last part of his statement.

"To be honest, I haven't wanted to get in your way lately. You're like a bloody raging beast, coming home and yelling at everybody!"

Ron's ears flushed as his face grew sheepish. "Yeah, I guess that's true…"

"But really, I'm not mad at you. And…I don't blame you." George didn't know where those last words had come from, but they seemed to relieve a lot of tension in Ron's shoulders the instant he said them.

Ron's gaze was far away as he half-smiled. "Thanks. I guess…I needed to hear that."

The two brothers sat together in more awkward silence, the touchy-feely moment they had just shared suddenly becoming embarrassing.

"So, you're with Hermione now?" George brought up out of nowhere.

Ron chuckled self-consciously. "Erm…yeah. It's great. I guess it was a long time coming."

George gave him a sly look. "I think you mean a long, long, long, long, _long_ time coming, Ickle Ronniekins. So long that Fred and I stopped taking bets, as we figured you'd be in your seventies before you'd figure it out."

Ron scowled but maintained a half-grin as he lay back on the ground.

"Guess I was a bit daft on that count, eh?"

"There are not enough words in the marvelous English tongue to accurately answer you," George responded. Ron laughed and silence fell between them again, though it was much more comfortable.

"George?"

George rolled his head over to Ron to give him a look.

"What?"

"Erm…are you…okay?" Ron asked, squirming awkwardly.

George groaned. "You too?" He hadn't meant for his tone to be annoyed, but it came out that way and he watched Ron scowl.

"What do you mean by that?" Ron demanded, offended. "I'm just asking how you are! You've been acting like a bloody…"

"A bloody _what_?" George yelled. "Just…leave me alone!" He stood up, abruptly agitated, and stalked to the house.

"_You_ called me over!" Ron shouted after him. "Merlin, you're such a—"

George didn't hear him over the slamming of the door.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Oh, the angst!_

_I've almost caught up to myself here, and the next chapter needs a lot of work, so I might not be able to post it quickly, especially considering all the homework I have. But I shall try my best, and perhaps procrastinate with this story! _

_Thanks for reading, and please let me know how you feel about Audrey! I appreciate it!_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: So sorry for the long delay! (Insert excuse about school getting in the way here). Believe me, I am definitely still interested in writing this story, and I've worked out many more scenes in my mind…I just needed time to write them! Thanks for being so patient!_

Chapter 8

Percy began to hyperventilate the instant he stumbled out of the fake fireplace into his flat. He was shaking violently and wanted nothing more than to sag to the floor, but instead, he made his way to the study and grabbed the W.Y.S.K.Y. Checklist from a drawer in his desk. Collapsing into his chair, Percy stared at the piece of paper and wanted to die.

He had lied about everything. He was the only thing keeping George going, and _he _had broken their agreement. What kind of brother was he? No, what kind of inhumane _thing_ was he?

Percy's breath came out in shudders as the words blurred together on the page.

**Percy:**

**Come home.**

**Clean the study because it's nasty.**

**Spill the booze unless you're willing to share.**

**Owl Penelope.**

"The "Why You _Shouldn't_ Kill Yourself" Checklist?" Percy read brokenly. "These are all reasons I should…"

His fingers trailed down the page to number four, which he caressed with his fingertips.

"Penelope…" he whispered, the image of her sobbing face suddenly replaced by Audrey's. Percy chuckled sobbingly. "I never cease to make girls cry over me…" Tears threatened to overwhelm him as he sniffed and laughed some more, utterly baffled as to why Audrey suddenly cared about him. She barely knew him; perhaps his grief had struck too close to home for her.

Ah, she was a compassionate girl. Caring, kind. Just like Penelope had been. But she, like Penelope, would soon realize that he wasn't worth it, if she hadn't already. His mistakes outweighed anything positive he could ever hope to achieve. He could never rectify them, ever. Percy knew that, deep down inside him.

That was why he had starved himself.

Not intentionally, of course. He just…stopped feeling hungry at first. But then…he never really felt hungry again, at least not enough to demand his attention. He wasn't so foolish as to not realize what was happening. It was _his_ body, after all. He knew he was getting thinner and weaker, but that didn't matter to him as long as he was able to fool everyone else that he was fine.

Why? Why did he enjoy misleading them? Some of them, like Audrey had proven, _did_ actually care. His father, his mother, George…they had visited him, made him food, and he had eaten it and thrilled that they were there.

But then they had left, and he had to face what greeted him every other second of the day:

Himself, all alone. And he hated it. All of it.

Percy stopped his ruminations for a moment, realizing that his logic did not make much sense. But what did it matter? He knew something was inherently wrong with him; he saw it every time he stared at his reflection in the mirror.

Percy closed his eyes, and felt for the secret compartment behind his bottom drawer. Carefully, he removed a stowed bottle of firewhiskey and, yanking off the cap, took a long swig, grimacing as it burned down his throat. He could almost hear George yelling at him.

LIAR!

But he had to lie! If he didn't, they would find out about him—

Audrey had seen right through him. And Hermione, too. His façade was failing. He couldn't hide anymore. So what _could_ he do?

Percy took a few more satisfying gulps before it caught up to him and he felt like he was going to faint. The room spun dizzily, and his stomach heaved the harmful liquid around nauseatingly. With nothing to offset the alcohol, Percy dimly knew that he was going to pass out if he drank anymore, but the urge to drown his sorrows was too strong. He had to forget that someone had found out. He had to pretend that he was okay. If he didn't…

He was George's lifeline. He couldn't fail him, not again; George was barely staying afloat as it was. Percy knew that the only thing keeping him going were the tiny scratches on this piece of crumpled parchment. He couldn't abandon him, he couldn't!

But they knew…they _knew_! The panic overwhelmed him and Percy couldn't breathe. He staggered to his feet and into the living room, battling the tightness of his chest and the hollow emptiness of his flat.

What could he do? _What could he do?_

The answer came clearly to him: He had to stop. He had to do this, for George.

Percy turned to the fireplace and felt his body seize with fear. It took all his willpower to grab a handful of Floo Powder from the jar on the mantle. He crunched it in his hand, trembling, as he prayed he would have enough strength to survive this.

It was time.

* * *

><p>"What did you <em>do?<em>" Ginny demanded incredulously as the rest of the family similarly gawked at Ron, who tried to conceal his humiliation by scooping another spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his plate.

"I…erm…won't be on the Auror squad anymore," Ron repeated, ducking his head to avoid his family's intense gaze as he took a quick bite.

George had to admit that it was rather amusing watching his younger brother squirm, not to mention his relief that their collective attention was not on him for once. Usually at these family dinners, he would catch all of them at one point shooting him a look, or exchanging glances between themselves. George hated how they tiptoed around him, but at the same time he couldn't talk to them at all; it was just too difficult, too forced. It felt quite good to go unnoticed. Even Bill and Fleur, who were visiting, were eyeing Ron and completely ignoring George. It was wonderful!

"Yes, but… why?" Ginny insisted. "What happened?"

Ron cast around to the sides of him, clearly desiring Harry and Hermione's support though neither of them was there; Ron had said earlier that Harry was completing a mission, and Hermione was home with her parents.

"I…erm…"

"Oh well, it doesn't matter," his mum rescued him, causing Ron to sag with relief. "I always felt that profession was too dangerous! It made me worry thinking about what you and Harry were up to out there. Poor Harry, dear, still involved…"

"But he wants to be," Ron explained, quickly snapping his mouth in regret at the looks he received.

"I thought you wanted to be an Auror, too?" Bill asked.

"I did! But now…" Ron trailed off, looking embarrassed.

"So what are you planning to do now?" his father wondered.

Ron shrugged. "I dunno…"

"Hogwarts could still use more volunteers," Ginny offered. "There's still a lot of work left to do before September. Not to mention Diagon Alley!"

"The ministry's always looking for new recruits," his father suggested.

Ron didn't look particularly enthused at either idea, so he just shrugged.

"So, Bill dear, how are things with your job?" his mother changed the subject.

Bill's face darkened. "Not good, I'm afraid. To be honest, it looks like we're on the brink of another Goblin Rebellion."

"Another war?" his mum murmured in a heartbreaking tone.

Bill nodded grimly. "Well, thanks to your lot's stunt into Gringotts," he indicated Ron, whose ears flamed, "Goblins have become even less trustworthy of wizards. There's talk that they are planning a revolt against us. They've already created impenetrable strongholds in some of the lower vaults."

"That's awful," Ginny sighed.

"But we 'ave to stop zem!" Fleur cried out abruptly, her beautiful face crumpling in concern for her husband. "Zis is wrong! We 'ave just 'ad a war. We must make zem listen!"

Bill smiled sadly at his wife. "I know, love. But, unfortunately, they are not willing to be very obliging at the moment. It's a feat to even speak to one of them face-to-face without hostility these days." He glanced over at his father. "I take it the Minister is aware of the situation?"

Arthur nodded. "I haven't talked to Kingsley in a while, but I know the office is scrambling for a solution. We really cannot afford another war."

A gloomy silence fell upon the table as George mechanically chewed some more tasteless food. He was about to get up and leave when his mother set her sights on him.

"George, is that all you're having, dear? Do eat up!"

George thickly swallowed his last bite as the table turned to stare at him. Sighing in irritation, he retaliated by not answering and just sat back in his chair. He caught a few flickered gazes before he stubbornly lowered his eyes.

"George, you will have more, won't you?" his father added softly, trying once more to get him to speak, though both he and George knew that he was going to lose this battle as he always did.

Suddenly, a sharp set of knocks sounded on the back door to the kitchen. The family instantly paled in alarm, and a number of them drew their wands as Arthur stood up, his features set and determined.

"Molly, stay here." He walked to the door, his stance tense but ready. "Who is it?" he demanded harshly. The rest of the family strained to hear the reply, but it was so soft that apparently only Arthur heard it as he snapped backward in surprise.

"Arthur?" Molly asked fearfully.

Not answering her, Arthur instead threw up open the door and in wobbled none other than Percy, looking absolutely terrible.

The entire table, except for George, stood up in shock as Percy practically fell into his father's arms before pulling away and straightening, swaying slightly. His bloodshot eyes scanned the room, and the rest of them saw that he was trembling madly.

"Percy," Arthur breathed, reaching out to hold onto Percy, his eyes wide and filled with emotion.

Percy concentrated on the rest of the family as he opened his mouth.

"I…I'm…I'm so, so sorry!" he spluttered as his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor. A cry went up as the family surged toward him. George knew from their expressions that they were scared for Percy. Like them, he couldn't believe what he had seen, and internally berated himself for not noticing. For Merlin's sake, how long had Percy been so thin that his bones stood out?

Percy appeared overwhelmed at the support he received as his family helped him to his feet and then into a chair at the table. Their mum hugged him fiercely as the rest of their siblings milled around, looking confused and upset. Fleur was crying softly, Ginny was horrified and Ron and Bill were at a loss for words.

"Oh, Percy, Percy!" their mum sobbed.

"I'm sorry, Mum," Percy murmured, lost. He gazed past her at his siblings. "I'm sorry, everyone. I'm really—"

"What are you doing here?" Ron interrupted, though there was no venom in his voice.

Percy slumped further into his seat. "I just…I need…I need…help…" Their mum sniffed at his words and began to stroke his hair lovingly. Subconsciously, he leaned into her for comfort.

"Merlin, what have you done?" Ginny demanded somewhat accusingly, though it was not directed at Percy.

Percy misinterpreted it and sunk even lower. "I…I understand if you can't forgive me," he said feebly. "I probably don't deserve it, anyways, but I'm—"

"Oh, Perce," Bill breathed, kneeling beside his mother and smiling sadly at his younger brother. "We already forgive you."

Percy's breath hitched. He looked like he wanted so much to believe them, but couldn't. He just stared back and forth as no one said a word.

At last, George scraped back his chair and stood, his hands on his hips.

"I told you so," he said, smirking as Percy's eyes met his. The rest of the family eyed him strangely, surprised that he would speak so candidly, as Percy inhaled a shaky breath and began to blink rapidly. Finally, he allowed himself a small chuckle.

"Yes…well…I'm winning."

George just grinned.

* * *

><p>The next few days felt surreal to Percy. Being home after several years of estrangement was so…odd.<p>

Since George was using his room, Percy had gone into Bill's, feeling somewhat comforted by his favorite elder brother's presence. Out of all of them, Percy felt like he was closest to Bill in terms of personality as intellectuals, which explained why Percy was overwhelmed that Bill was the first to declare that they all forgave him.

Of course, even though Bill had said it for all of them, Percy knew the others did not feel quite as strongly. Ron and Ginny especially seemed distressed, and Percy began to second-guess his return even as his parents showered him with affection.

How wonderful it was to be loved again, to be _home_ again. Percy never realized how attached he was to the Burrow. When he had left years before, he had thought 'good riddance.' The place had only harbored bad memories – getting teased and mocked by his older brothers, harassed by the twins, and laughed at by his youngest siblings. He had thought his parents only paid attention to him when he achieved something special, and ignored him the rest of the time. The place had not seemed like home to Percy; it had been a living hell, and he had relished his escape.

But things were so different now. Now, the lack of explosions and snickering was awful. Maybe it was because he had suffered, or maybe because he had grown up a little bit, but he was starting to realize that he had tainted his own memories. He had dragged down some of the happier ones to form even more excuses to leave, more excuses to hide his pain. After all, he had not had a terrible childhood. Sure, he had not quite fit in, but his family had loved him…they had just showed it in different ways. He had been wallowing in such extreme loneliness these past few years that suddenly, the Burrow seemed like paradise.

Still, Percy knew he couldn't get comfortable. Though his parents insisted, and he agreed, that he should stay out of work to try to recover a bit, he knew he would have to leave soon. He didn't belong here. The old tensions would come back, and he knew that the others would never fully forgive him. He had wounded them too deeply, and just as he knew they would never heal from it, he knew he would never be able to forgive himself.

In the days that followed, his mother made it her express purpose in life to pump him full of food. She was distraught that she had 'let' Percy do this to himself, and no matter how hard he tried to explain to her that it was _his_ fault, she didn't seem to listen.

Percy had to admit, though, that he had sorely missed her cooking. The amount of flavors that burst to life on his tongue was some he hadn't tasted since he had left. Now, whenever he got up from the table, his full stomach reminded him that he was somewhere safe, somewhere where he was loved, and for the first time in over a month, he was able to sleep without a Sleeping Draught. It was remarkable, too, just how good he felt only a few days later. He had been so addicted to the Invigoration Draughts that he forgot just how wonderful it was to have a full stomach of delicious, home-cooked food to give him energy. It was healing for not only his body, but also his spirit.

Percy also felt his heart burst with joy when, a few mornings after his return to the Burrow, a Ministry owl sailed in to deliver a 'Get Well' package from his co-workers. That night, Hermione voiced aloud their employee's sincere well-wishes, and Percy was so filled with emotion that he wanted to weep.

How was it that these people, these strangers, could care so deeply for him?

Thinking about that made him remember Audrey's particular kindness, and he inquired specifically about her after dinner. Hermione just responded by pressing an envelope into his hand and leaving him alone in the sitting room to read it.

Sinking into the couch, Percy hesitantly broke the seal and began to read the contents.

_Dear Mr. Weasley,_

_I am writing this letter to inform you that I have requested and officially received permission to transfer to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I hope you will not blame yourself for my transfer. It was really all my doing, and I must apologize for my actions. I over-stepped my bounds as your employee, and I am afraid your situation was so similar to mine that I over-reacted and forced you into a confrontation you did not deserve. I was wrong to do so, and I only pray that you can forgive me. _

_I have learned from Hermione that you returned to the Burrow and are doing much better, and I am very happy to hear that. I wish you all the best in your recovery, and I hope we will meet again in the future. _

_Warm regards, Audrey Littleton_

Percy finished her letter and cursed himself. _He_ should have been the one apologizing! She had…she had saved his life for all he knew! Still, he understood why she was leaving, and knew from her subtext that she was still recovering herself. He decided to write back to her.

_Dear Miss Littleton,_

_I am very sorry to hear that you are leaving; you were one of our best workers, and I know we will all miss you dearly._

_I wanted to let you know that I am not upset with you for assisting me. Contrary to the fact, I am grateful that you acted with such consideration, dignity and respect. You may very well have saved my life, and I can never fully repay my debt to you._

_Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you, be it a recommendation letter or even just someone to talk to. I wish you the absolute best of luck in your new profession._

_Kindest regards,_

_Percy Weasley_

When Percy was done, he stared at the letter for a moment, debating whether it was too maudlin or not. Thinking about it, though, Percy realized that the letter, although bold for him, was the single most honest thing he had ever written. Even though it made him feel vulnerable, if there was anyone out there who would understand his sentiments, it was Audrey. After what she had done for him, he _wanted_ to be honest with her, just like he wanted to be honest at home. It made him feel good, like he was becoming a better person.

The next morning, Percy sent it out with the morning post and contented himself to breakfast with his family. Their father stopped by for a quick bite before heading to work as Percy lingered at the table, savoring his toast and marmalade. George casually arrived somewhat later and helped himself to toast and sausage, but said nothing as he kept his gaze lowered. Percy felt Ron and Ginny, who had been chatting amicably about Quidditch, tensed slightly at George's presence as their conversation trailed off.

Percy had been noticing that a lot, lately. He would never have guessed that this is what George was like at home the way he acted with him. Here, he didn't speak, he didn't meet anyone's eyes, he didn't _live_. Every interaction with his family was negative as they all picked up on his severe depression and inadvertently let it affect them. It was so weird that their family dynamic had so drastically changed. Percy almost _yearned_ for George to pull a prank on him, just to feel a sense of normalcy again.

When George at last filed out to do something for their mother, Percy suddenly found himself face to face with his younger siblings who had fierce expressions on their faces. Percy, in all honesty, had been waiting for them to grill him about his abandonment, so he braced himself for the worst, knowing he deserved all of it.

Ginny elbowed Ron to speak first.

"Ow!" Ron scowled grumpily at his sister, whose expression never faltered. Ron sighed resignedly and turned to Percy. "Look, Perce. We're…erm…sorry. And well…yeah."

Percy blinked. "What?"

"We're sorry," Ron repeated with a little more conviction.

"_You're_…sorry?" Percy said disbelievingly.

"Yes!" Ron exclaimed in exasperation.

Percy eyed them shrewdly, positive that they were fooling with him. "For what?"

"For not visiting you. For saying bad things about you," Ginny chimed in.

"For not…being there," Ron added awkwardly, raising his eyes. "You were there when Fred died. I should've…"

Percy just couldn't understand. "You're apologizing?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell, _yes_! Are you trying to rub it in?"

"No! I just…_you_ shouldn't be the ones apologizing!" Goodness, first Audrey, now them? Did they not realize what he had done to hurt them?

"Of course we should be!" Ginny disagreed. "You were hurting just as much as we were, but we just…ignored you."

"We were gits," Ron offered.

"But I—"

"No buts," Ginny cut him off before sighing. "We just wanted you to know that we're sorry. We're really, really sorry." She pulled Percy into a tight hug. When he heard her sniff loudly, he pushed away and was amazed to see tears shining in her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and gestured to him. "You're too skinny." Swiping at her eyes, she shoved Percy away, glaring as she stalked out of the room. Percy watched her go, marveling at her composure and the strong, mature young woman she had become. When had his baby sister grown up so much? A lump formed in his throat when he realized the answer.

"She's right, you know," Ron added softly. "You should eat more."

Percy quirked a thin smile. "I don't think Mum will give me a choice."

"Yeah." Ron sighed and, giving Percy a look, headed toward the stairs.

"Wait, Ron—"

Ron paused in the doorway. "What?"

"Is…is George always like this at home?"

Ron nodded grimly. "It was weird seeing him talk to you. He never says anything anymore."

"That's what I was afraid of. I'll…try to talk to him."

"Yeah. Maybe he'll listen to you."

"Maybe…"

"Good luck, Perce."

* * *

><p>Percy sighed as he realized the position he was in. Though Ron and Ginny had apologized, he knew that they really only wanted him to do something for them – in this case talk to George. They couldn't be serious about feeling bad about not helping him; after all, it wasn't like he made any effort to contact them either. But now that they had attempted to save face, Percy was in an awkward situation. He had to talk to George, but would he be effective? He couldn't help but feel that he would be useless. When it came to matters of family, he had never done anything but fail. George was barely the exception now that Percy was on the path of recovery, but even those prospects were dwindling rapidly. He knew that George needed help, but was he really the right one to persuade him?<p>

Doubts nagged at him as he finally located George in his bedroom, fiddling with some letters.

_Probably Lee's correspondents_, Percy surmised, aware that George was somewhat participating in his friend's newfound career, if only to get Lee off his back. It was an admirable start, but there wasn't much progress being made on George's own recovery. Grief was still there lingering about his body, his face, and especially his eyes, which looked increasingly haunted as time passed. The George he and his family had known was long dead.

Percy cleared his throat awkwardly. "Erm…George, are you busy?"

George's jaw clenched for a moment until he lifted his eyes and saw Percy hovering at the door.

"Oh, it's just you, Perce."

"Yes," Percy said faintly. "Might I…come in?" He gestured weakly and George shrugged.

"Sure. What do you want?"

"I was just…wondering about your progress on the checklist?" Percy began hopefully, glad that inspiration sparked at just that moment.

"You're here to lecture me, aren't you?" George asked suspiciously. "That, or shove it in my face again, right?"

"No…I just notice that you haven't completed your second goal yet."

"And you haven't completed your fourth one," George reminded him. "Do you want me to give you another one, so you can complete it and show how you are still mighty and superior?"

Percy swallowed heavily. "No. I mean, you can if you want. I brought it from my flat."

"Oh." George glanced at Percy and narrowed his eyes. "What do you _really_ want?"

Percy sighed. "It's just…the family's worried about you. They want to talk to you more, but you're not talking to them—"

"That's rich, coming from you!" George interrupted.

"This isn't about me," Percy snapped. "You're depressed, George. You shouldn't keep it all bottled up—"

"Really, Perce? Who's the one who hid his eating disorder from _everyone_? Hmm?" George retorted.

"I came home to get help," Percy said firmly.

"Took you long enough! You almost bloody _died_! Don't lecture me about talking to the family! You're the one who needs bloody help with that!" George had risen from his chair and was glaring at Percy, his fists shaking at his side. "Brilliant, you preaching to me about the family! Especially _you_, who abandoned yours a few years ago!"

Percy paled. "Stop."

"Why should I? You come barging in here, demanding that I speak up, when you're really just upset at yourself and lying to everyone! I'd appreciate you _not_ taking that out on me, thank you very much!"

Percy began to tremble. His heart felt cold and heavy and hurt, and tears stung the corners of his eyes.

"We all love you, George," he said stiffly as he stomped out of the room. He didn't turn back until he got into his own, slammed the door, and slid down it. Hugging his knees to his chest, he began to weep in painful, dry heaves.

Damn it, George! Would anything get through to him? Percy thought despairingly, crying harder when he realized the truth of George's accusations.

Percy didn't think it was possible, but failing George again made him hate himself even more.

* * *

><p>George felt a twinge of regret as Percy fled from his room, though he couldn't deny that part of him was satisfied at his older brother's reaction. It served him right for scaring the family like that! Plus, George had prior arrangements with Percy that had clearly been broken, and Percy needed to pay for that. Just because he had finally come home did not mean George would let him off the hook for practically killing himself and making the W.Y.S.K.Y. Checklist meaningless. There had to be consequences for his actions.<p>

George breathed deeply to try to calm down. He couldn't let himself get so riled up over Percy. It wasn't worth feeling that kind of emotion. If he let that through, who knew what else would break through the cracks.

Still, George felt worse when Percy remained locked in his room for the rest of the day, refusing lunch, tea and supper. He had been eating well these past few days, so it was rather unlike him, and George noticed the additional worried looks at the table that night. His mother in particular seemed distraught, and ended up carrying a tray to Percy once everyone had cleared the table. George hoped he hadn't ruined Percy's chances of a full recovery – Percy had a job and a normal life to get back to. Even after all he had done, Percy deserved happiness again.

Unbeknownst to George, thinking of Percy made him angry, and mostly at himself. What was _wrong_ with him? Why did he keep insulting everyone? Was he _trying_ to drag everyone down with him? Raging thoughts swirled around his mind, and after dinner, when George was milling in his room – no, Percy's room – he knew he had to get out, if just for a moment. The nippy night air always helped calm his inner turmoil. Making rash decisions wasn't going to help anyone, no matter how badly he wanted to run away and never come back sometimes. Yet something kept him here…he knew what it was, _who_ it was, but he could not say. It was too painful.

Sneaking out through the back door, George hoped to successfully avoid the rest of his family for the time being. George couldn't remember what it was like to feel normal, and as far as he knew, it was impossible to go back. He had strongly embraced the emotions that coursed through him now – the constant anger, frustration, pain. He was used to it, and he knew there was no real solution that could rid him of their suffocating presence. This was his life now. His family just had to realize that. He just wished they weren't so bloody stubborn about it!

George craned his neck back to stare at the sky, which was purpling like a bruise. Small specks of light poked out from the murky veil and began to twinkle wanly. Then the whole sky was swallowed up by a great expanse of black, bringing with it a chilly breeze that swept against George's body. He shivered despite himself, knowing that he could use a jacket but not caring enough to get one.

It was then that another sound came to him, a familiar one, though it was muffled. George blinked and glanced around, squinting into the darkness, as he made out the plump form of his mother on the edge of the field. Her silhouette was shaking slightly as George crept closer, not knowing what compelled him to do so. Several feet behind her, he stopped and something inside of him shattered.

His mother, one of the strongest, most powerful women he had ever known, was crying quietly, out here all alone. It was the most heartbreaking sound he had ever heard, and it made him want to curl into a ball and beg for the pain to stop. Once extinct emotions stirred within George, and he felt the fiercely protective urge to hurt whoever had made his mum cry. When he remembered all that had happened, the desire for violence melted away, only to be replaced by pure desperation. He would do anything to make his mother happy again, _anything_. He felt like his chest was exploding just standing there, watching her. Without realizing it, he made a soft whimpering noise and his mother whirled around.

She sniffled as she appraised him, and then strode forward to wrap her arms around him in a hug that could never be replicated. George clung to her, feeling tears streaking from his own eyes, as he began to tremble. When she finally pulled away, his mum stared up into his face with an expression full of love, grief, and understanding. She reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of his face as she softly stroked his cheek.

"My beautiful boy," she whispered. "My dear, beautiful, brave boy. I wish I could help you." Her voice broke on the last words and tears glistened in her eyes. "I wish I knew what to do. But I don't. I'm so used to punishing you, controlling your mischief. But now…I'm lost."

George felt his throat grow tight at his mother's confession. It occurred to him, as she continued to stroke his face, that he had never really had such a private moment with his mother before. Whenever he had been hurt, or in trouble, or getting punished in the past, Fred had always been with him. They had been a packaged deal. They had never really confided in their parents because they had each other.

Now…everything had changed. He could sense his mother's heartbreak as she tried to smile at him, and George felt like he was falling apart. The pieces were crashing down inside of him, and the ache was leering smugly as it devoured him.

"I'm sorry," he choked out.

"I know, dear," she murmured soothingly.

"I can't—"

"I know." Her eyes were full of love as she stared at him in the darkness. "We all love you so much, George. We just want you to feel better."

The lump in George's throat nearly incapacitated his voice. "I know."

His mother inhaled a shaky breath and patted him gently before taking his hand and slowly leading him back to the house. "Will you come with me tomorrow morning?" she spoke up gently.

George couldn't speak for a moment. He knew where his mother went every morning, but could he really bring himself to go there? It would mean opening everything he had sealed off this past month. It would mean letting the ache win.

But his mother was squeezing his hand soothingly. He knew that she would support whatever he chose, that she would never be angry with him. She would just be sad, so very, very sad.

He opened his mouth, fumbling for words. "I…I…will."

The squeeze this time was so strong that George felt his chest literally searing with pain.

"Tomorrow then," his mum promised in a soft voice. The welcoming light of the Burrow fell on them as they came in the back door, and George was enveloped in warmth.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks for your reviews! You guys are the best! Also, happy holidays! _


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Could this really be it? Could his twin really be under all this dirt, his body lifeless and rotting?

George tried to block the image by staring at Fred's smiling and laughing face in the portrait leaning against his brother's gravestone. His mother knelt beside him to place fresh flowers in the vase beside it.

How could this really be it? He stared at the lifeless stone that was somehow meant to symbolize Fred's crowning achievements and glorious failures. How could this cold, dead stone represent the vibrant, lively spirit that was Fred's?

There were so many things George wanted to say, but they all clogged his mind and stifled his voice. The primary thought that nagged him was if Fred knew what had happened. Did Fred feel the same pain George did? George desperately wanted to ask but was terrified of having to say it out loud. He was so used to having his thoughts already understood and half-completed by Fred that he never needed to voice them. He knew that if he opened his mouth, the realization and awful truth would crash down upon him, the truth that there would never be another person in this world who would understand him as completely as Fred.

To save himself from choking on that thought, George concentrated on his mother's voice as she spoke to Fred and prattled on about the recent events that had transpired.

"Well, Ginny is still helping with Hogwarts. I doubt it will be completely back to normal before the new term begins, but I think enough of it will be cleared to start school anyways. People certainly need something positive to focus on right now. Minerva is hiring new staff, so Ginny and Hermione will be their test subjects I suppose. Hmm… Oh, I told you already that Ron is no longer working the Aurors, right? Well, it seems that he has found something to do in the meantime – I'm not sure, exactly, but it appears he will be Lee's co-anchor on his new radio program. I am certainly glad for that! They are both so hard-working…I know it will be a success. What else?"

"Oh!" a startled voice suddenly interrupted his mum's rambling. She whirled around.

"Angelina, dear!"

"Mrs. Weasley," Angelina smiled as she approached. "How are you?"

"Good," his mum answered sincerely, nodding down at George.

"George?"

George attempted a grin in his friend's direction, and even though it failed, a new light sparkled in Angelina's eyes.

"I'm so glad you're here," Angelina said, coming over to George and hugging him. She pulled apart and smiled again. "It's good to see you. Sorry I haven't been around lately."

George quirked his lips, knowing that it was his fault. He couldn't blame his friends, really. It was hard enough without his refusing to speak to them.

"Not your fault," he muttered, and Angelina's eyes bulged as she glanced back and forth between him and his mother.

"You're speaking again?" she breathed.

"I guess."

"That's great! I mean…"

"It is," his mum agreed, smiling warmly. "I'm going to head back home now. I take it you'll be alright then?"

George nodded and watched his mother Disapparate a few paces away. Beyond the spot where she had stood, Hogwarts gleamed in the distance, still broken but standing proudly.

"Beautiful as always," Angelina murmured, following his line of sight. She sighed suddenly. "Look, I wanted to apologize for what happened the other day… I shouldn't have forced you to go there—"

"Don't worry about it."

Silence reigned for a moment as they both stared at Hogwarts again.

"She still needs a lot of work, but she's coming around," Angelina commented, a wistful smile on her face.

"You're still volunteering?"

She nodded. "I am. Though sometimes it's so hard… There are a lot of memories in there. Terrible memories…" she shuddered. "But good ones, too. Even great ones." She turned to grin at George. "And of course, the handful of ones involving well-thought-out pranks."

"Are there any other kind?" George mused, and Angelina chuckled.

"Hey, are you doing anything later?" she asked abruptly.

"No."

"Would you want to come play a pick-up game of Quidditch with me and Katie? I'm not sure if Alicia or Oliver will be able to make it, and I know Lee is busy doing whatever he does nowadays, so we could use more players. What do you say?" When George didn't respond immediately, Angelina blew out a breath. "Well, I'm asking because once this is all over, I was thinking of trying out for the Harpies."

"You want to go professional?"

"Well, yeah!" Angelina replied. She eyed George shrewdly. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

George shook his head. "Nah. It sounds brilliant."

"You think so? Does that mean you'll help me practice then? I need to train hard!"

George glanced at Fred's gravestone and shrugged. "Yeah. I guess."

* * *

><p>A week had passed, and Percy knew it was high time that he return to work. He was feeling loads better, and even though he knew his parents would try to dissuade him from his decision, he just hated being away for so long. He had an important job, and though he knew Hermione was handling it just fine, he really wanted to go back and resume his position. That was the only time he ever really felt useful, where he could put his skills and experience toward something that would benefit everyone.<p>

Besides, life at the Burrow was becoming difficult. Not in a bad way, he supposed, but it just seemed to him that he was the cause of all the tension in the house. Now that George was, miraculously, starting to open up again, Percy felt that his purpose had vanished, and none of his family knew what to say to him anymore. It was returning to how it had always been, when their personalities refused to mesh and when their opinions clashed. Of course, Percy was a different man now, so dialogues with his family, mainly about the foreboding goblin crisis, never became more than fierce discussions as Percy defended his opinions. It was difficult to understand how giving in to the goblins' demands would quell the rebellion – with wands in their hands, he argued, who knew what they would be capable of, now that the wizarding world was still reeling from the prolonged war.

Nevertheless, while he enjoyed the social aspect of the Burrow and its now-peaceful environment, it was becoming exhausting to live there all the time. He began to long for the quiet simplicity of his flat, so before his parents could make another excuse for him to stay, he moved back in and promised to visit often.

The day before Percy returned to work, George visited him, panting and exhausted from flying with his friends. He had been meeting with them frequently to play Quidditch, and while everyone was happy that he was actually _doing_ something outside of the house, Percy worried that he was throwing himself into the game a little too fiercely. Though the visit to Fred's grave had roused George into action, he was exerting himself so much that he had no time to confront the changes that had occurred within himself. Quidditch had become another means of avoiding reality, and Percy worried that George would sink even deeper into depression before they could intervene.

Percy observed George carefully as he tromped into the kitchen and began to guzzle some water from the tap.

"How was the game?" he asked to make small talk.

"Good," George replied, swallowing. "We actually won this time, though it was probably because Oliver was on our side for once. I mean, Alicia and Katie are brilliant flyers, but Lee….well, he's alright. I think it would probably be better if he went back to just commentating."

"Isn't that what he already does, on his radio program?"

"You mean _Phoenix_? Nah, there's not too much Quidditch happening yet, especially in the professional league. It'll come back soon though. At least, that's what Oliver said. And Angelina says the Harpies will be hosting try-outs in March."

"Well, good luck to her then," Percy said politely.

George scoffed. "What's with you pretending you actually give a rat's tail about Quidditch?"

Percy pursed his lips. "I just…erm… He hesitated. "Alright, fine. I think we should update the checklist."

"You have more goals in mind then?" George asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I do."

"Oh, well, brilliant, because I have one for you as well."

Percy nodded as he set the checklist on the counter.

"I can cross that one off," George muttered as he struck a line through Visit Fred's grave.

"And you haven't talked to Dad yet, right? So number one still needs to be completed," Percy reminded him as he dipped his quill into the ink. "Along with this one." Carefully, he wrote:

3. Get a job.

George scowled at it after Percy had finished. He grumbled something under his breath as he yanked the parchment away and scribbled furiously.

**5. Come home as often as you can.**

**6. Eat 3 meals a day, plus snacks, to gain some bloody weight!**

**7. Stop being a prat. **

"George!" Percy accused as George rolled his eyes.

"Fine!"

**7. Be more social. That means ****talk**** to people other than the family. Hang out with your co-workers more. Go to parties. And stop being a prat.**

Percy huffed in annoyance as George smirked.

"That sounds about right," he remarked as Percy glared at him.

"This is a serious list!"

"Yeah, it is!" George agreed, nodding vigorously as he slouched against the counter. "So…" he changed the subject. "You set for work tomorrow?"

Percy grimaced. "I think so. I don't know what the others must think of me…"

"Eh, don't worry about it." George clapped him hard on the back. "You'll be fine."

Percy winced in pain. "Ow!"

George laughed as he gestured to the door. "Well, I'm off to help Lee with _Phoenix._"

"Oh, you're helping him now?"

"I was helping him before!" George said, offended.

"Right but…"

"Well, Ron's the co-anchor but they still need someone behind the scenes."

"That makes sense."

"Yep. See you later, Perce." He waved as he exited the door. Percy watched him go with a concerned expression on his face. Would George ever be George again?

* * *

><p>George was in a foul mood. He knew he should attempt to be upbeat – it was Harry's birthday party, after all – but things just weren't going as he wanted them to. It was frustrating, to say the least.<p>

Ever since he had talked with his mother and visited Fred's grave, George had been making a conscious effort to change. Or at least he thought he had been. He had hung out with his friends more, helped Lee with his business, visited the family at their workplaces… But for some reason, he got the sense that all of them were getting irritated with him. Sure he called them every day, sometimes more than once a day, and sure they had other things to deal with than him, but he was enthusiastic and wanted to change for the better, right? Who were _they_ to deny him?

Truth be told, _he_ might be agitating _them_, but it wasn't like they were perfect either. In fact, he was finding that they were just as annoying. They never seemed to understand what he was saying, and found the stupidest things funny. George knew comedy, and although his inspiration had been sorely lacking, he hadn't regressed that badly! Only Lee and Angelina appreciated his wit, but it was rare, and both were so busy with their other lives that it just didn't even to matter to them most of the time.

What was worse was that, while he was making all of this effort, no one seemed to view it as progress at all. Percy was the most persistent and easily the most infuriating. He kept telling George that no one could replace Fred, but George knew that. He wasn't an idiot!

"Bloody Percy," George groused as he sulked in Percy's old bedroom. "If everyone's still going to complain, then maybe I should just lie in this bloody bed and never bloody wake up again."

"George, are you going to come down? Everyone's here," Ginny called as she stood in his doorway and frowned at him. "We're going to do cake soon. You should come celebrate with everyone."

"Why bother?" George muttered darkly.

Ginny stomped over to the bed and thwacked him soundly.

"You _will_ come down! It's Harry's birthday and he deserves to have a nice party!"

"Which is why _I_ should stay up here!" George retorted, rubbing his arm.

"Really? More self-pity? It's been two months, George. Get over yourself and show Harry that we appreciate what he went through! Honestly!" she huffed, punching him again.

"Ow!" George cried out, glaring at her, as he paused to consider her words. "Fine," he sighed, sliding his legs over the side of the bed. He shot her a sly look. "I'll come down if you promise to snog Harry senseless in front of the family."

Ginny's reaction comprised a number of emotions. Even as she flushed fiercely, she angrily strode forward and threatened to hit George again, though she didn't go through with it in her embarrassment. She sputtered helplessly as George laughed.

"Calm down. I'm just messing with you."

"You're bloody mental," Ginny hissed, glaring daggers at her older brother.

George smirked as he thumped down the stairs, Ginny fast on his heels.

Out in the backyard, a small pavilion had been erected, under which Harry stood before a tremendous birthday cake shaped like his scar that, every few seconds, actually flashed like the lightning bolt it represented. Harry's face was sheepish as he humbly thanked George's mum for her hard work. George had to grin at her expression.

At breakfast the other day, Harry had let slip the fact that he was amazed he had made it to his 18th birthday considering his life experiences, and before he could say another word, George's mother had let out a cry and determined to throw him the biggest and best birthday party Harry had ever had. It had taken numerous sessions to persuade her to tone it down; Harry was not particularly enjoying his even more prestigious fame, and really wanted to have a small, intimate party to celebrate his birthday. George felt bad for the guy – not only did Harry have his mum to contend with, but he also had to face crowds wherever he went. Normalcy for The Boy Who Lived Who Defeated Voldemort was impossible: he was always recognized, congratulated and unintentionally harassed by even the kindest well-wishers. George was impressed that he hadn't gone mad yet.

In fact, to make Harry's birthday celebration possible, the family had had to take special precautions to create new wards specially designed to keep the public eye away. It was getting more and more difficult to stymie the ecstatic public and occasional hater from sending their letters and other sometimes dangerous and illegal paraphernalia. His father mentioned that the Minister had hired a man whose sole purpose was to sort through Harry Potter's mail. Not to mention the flock of reporters pleading for an interview. Luckily, Harry had only accepted one offer: Lee Jordan's. He was scheduled to report on _Phoenix _the following week.

Despite all the pressure to keep up appearances, George had to admit that Harry was looking pretty good. It seemed that he had really thrown himself into Auror work, and, unsurprisingly, was excelling at it. Still, he had not quite mastered being famous yet. He was still a bit uncomfortable at being the center of attention, even though only the Weasleys and their close friends were there.

George positioned himself in the back of the group nearest the entrance to the Burrow to ensure a hasty retreat as everyone gathered together and began to sing "Happy Birthday" in terribly off-pitched voices. George cringed as they got to the end, and was about to disappear inside when a woman bustled out of the door carrying a purple-haired bundle in her arms.

"Mrs. Tonks," George greeted in surprise as she sent him a somewhat frazzled smile.

"Oh goodness, we missed the song now didn't we? Ah, George, be a dear and hold him now will you? I completely forgot his nappies!"

"Um…" George started, but didn't get any further as baby Teddy was pushed into his arms. He panicked as he tightly clutched the bundle, not having had much experience with babies – his mother had barely let him near his younger siblings after they were born, knowing what mischief he and his brother got into. He was about to mention this, but when he glanced up, Mrs. Tonks had vanished. Luckily for him, Teddy had just woken up from a nap and was regarding him rather calmly. George stared down at him and couldn't help but smile as the three-month-old yawned.

"Look at you," George grinned. "You're just a big chubby, wrinkly pile of baby!" He raised his pitch and cooed at Teddy, causing the baby to smile a little. "You've got no cares in the world, do you? Nothing for you to worry about! Grandmum's been taking good care of you, hasn't she? And face it, what multi-color-haired baby doesn't get completely spoiled rotten?" He made a strange face and a pleased gurgle escaped the child. George's smile dimmed. "You've got it so easy." He began to rock Teddy back and forth, making sure he had a very tight hold on him. "You don't even know your parents are dead, do you?" he murmured. George's eyes glazed. "They're with Fred now. Heck, Fred's got all the Marauders with him. Can you believe that? Ron told me your daddy's a Marauder. Who would've thought? Professor Lupin one of the greatest pranksters of all time?" He was silent for a moment as Teddy wriggled and began to wave a chubby arm in the air. "You'll never know him, will you? Or Fred…"

"Thanks so much!" Mrs. Tonks said as she reappeared and swept Teddy into her arms. "You're a life-saver, dear! Excuse me, but I have to give Harry his present!"

George watched her hurry away and jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"George. Your mum wanted some help with the drinks. Would you mind?"

George didn't answer him, as he was consumed with a thought that hadn't occurred to him before. It made him feel cold all over, and he suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

"George? Son? Are you ill?"

George felt himself getting steered into the house, and didn't protest as his father gently pushed him into a chair at the kitchen table.

"George?" His father's face swam before him, weary and concerned.

"They'll never…he'll never…" George gazed up at his father. "They won't know Fred, will they? The children now… They'll never…"

"No they won't." His father's voice was soft as he settled beside George. "So it's up to us to remember him."

"But that's not enough."

"George." His father placed a hand on his shoulder again and squeezed. "We're here for you. No matter what happens—"

"I want to see him," George interrupted.

His father blinked. "Who?"

"Fred. Can you take me?"

His father inhaled a large breath and released it slowly. "Wait a moment." He stood up and left the kitchen to return a few minutes later with George's wand in his hand. He handed it to George with an intense look.

"Don't let your mother know I gave it back to you."

George couldn't explain the sudden surge of joy he felt after getting his wand back. It was like an old friend, and he had missed it without realizing it.

"Don't do anything foolish," Arthur added sternly.

Somewhat speechless, George glanced up at his father. "Thank you."

There was silence for a few moments as George hesitated to leave. His father finally spoke up.

"Be careful, George."

George nodded and carefully slipped into the next room. With a clear image in his mind, he Apparated to the cemetery. Luckily he had special permission to access it, since, as part of the reconstruction project, old wards were being reestablished and new ones were being added to protect Hogwarts' future students. George hoped that none of the current generation would be exposed to the terror and grief of his own. He thought of Teddy again and his heart ached.

At Fred's gravestone, George had to swallow tears. For so long he had been thinking about the present and how he didn't know what to do or how to feel without Fred. Somehow, he had failed to consciously acknowledge the future. Fred wasn't here now and…he _never_ would be again. George had been waiting for something to change, to get better, for Fred to come back so it wouldn't hurt so much _now_. How could he possibly deal with this for the rest of his life?

"I shouldn't have to," George muttered, his brow furrowing. "I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO!" Staring right at Fred's smug face in the portrait, George sent his foot crashing into the stone, ignoring the vibrations of pain that traveled up his leg. "WHY DID YOU DIE? WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?" He punctuated each word with another violent kick. He wanted to smash Fred's face in, and he finally lifted Fred's picture and hurled it against the gravestone with all of his might. The frame cracked, the glass shattered into a thousand pieces, and the picture nearly tore in two as it landed amongst the shards. George stared at it for a moment, and then sank to his knees, trembling. He leaned his forehead against the cold stone, heaving brokenly.

"I hate you," he whispered. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you." He waited for Fred's rebuke. They had never argued so intensely before. Fred _had_ to say something back. But it was silent, deadly silent. George couldn't breathe. The ache in his chest suffocated him as he thought of all the things Fred would never see and never experience. He would never grow up, never get married or have kids, never take care of the family as they created families of their own. He would never tell another joke, never create another product for the shop, never play Quidditch again. He would never…be George's partner again. He would never laugh or smile or cry or get angry. He was gone. He was never coming back.

George didn't realize how long he had been there, leaning against Fred's grave, until his father found him and he saw that it was nearly dark. His dad helped him to his feet, where he swayed on tingly limbs that had fallen asleep hours before. He felt his father gently pry his wand from his hand, and then they were back at the Burrow and his mother was fretting over him and he couldn't feel anything but empty. Then somehow he was in his bed, staring at the ceiling, and it was dark and he was in _his _room, but the other bed was gone. When had it been removed? Months ago. Yet he could still detect the ghost of a laugh in the darkness where it used to be.

"I hate you," he said aloud, though he didn't know who he was talking to.

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><p><em>AN: Thanks for your reviews, everyone, and Happy 2012!_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: I wanted to start off by thanking everyone for your reviews! I got quite an outpouring for the last chapter, and I am so humbled! I am doing my best trying to capture George's grief, and I'm glad that at least some of you think I am on the right track! After all, I've never had a twin, and I have never experienced that kind of grief, so I am basing everything off of what I imagine George (and the rest) would feel. I hope you enjoy this chapter, too! _

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><p>Chapter 10<p>

Percy was exhausted as he slumped into his couch. Work had picked up since Hermione had returned to Hogwarts, and he and the rest of the staff had had to divide her tasks among them, making them all appreciate how much Hermione had accomplished in such a short time. Especially since it meant overtime several days a week just to fulfill the Minister's quota, though even still they barely made it. Of course, it didn't really matter since Kinglsey, anxious to start new legislation, had plowed forward before waiting for them to finish, and was now entrenched in an ugly legal battle over the Dementors in Azkaban, and whether or not they should remain. There were very vocal opinions on both sides of the argument, making Kingsley's job even more difficult, and Percy certainly didn't envy him.

With Audrey's transfer, a new girl, Gemma Farley, had come to work for Percy. It was a bit odd for him to be the boss, as she was a year his senior, but she was very willing to work for him, and even more willing to change the image of Slytherin for the better. As a Prefect, Percy found he could identify with her, though she had her own struggles with which to contend. Unlike fellow Slytherin Pucey's family, Farley's had not survived wholly intact; her aunt, uncle and cousin had gone missing during the war, and according to her, they still hadn't been found. Percy couldn't imagine the agony involved with the situation. At least he had some closure with Fred – though he doubted George saw that as a blessing.

In the past few months, George had become alarmingly unhinged. Percy and the family were desperate to help him, but the problem was that they were the cause. For the most part, they were moving on with their lives, or at least on the surface they seemed to be. Percy knew his parents were still gutted by Fred's death, but they were making a conscious effort to hide it in front of their other children. As for he and his siblings, they all seemed to agree that there was no point in dwelling on grief. Percy had personally done enough of that, and it had almost killed him. Even though it was painful, he was slowly letting go, at least in comparison to George, who was clinging to his grief as if his very life depended on it. Sometimes Percy saw the frustration in George's face – a part of him wanted to let go – but there was an overwhelming part that just couldn't give it up. George didn't know how to be George without Fred, and as much as Percy and his family wanted to help him move on, this was a battle that George ultimately had to face on his own. Percy wondered just how long it would take. On some days, he even despaired that it would never happen as George went slightly mad and Percy couldn't do a thing about it. Even the Checklist had become ineffective.

Over the months, Percy had tried to update the Whiskey Checklist with new goals for George, but as work caught up to him, and George fixated on his dead twin, inspiration had run dry. Percy didn't know how to help him. It was the worst day when even his family acknowledged his failure. His mother, knowing that George frequented Percy's flat and opened up to him, often asked him how George was, and, leading up to the end, he had had to confess that he didn't know, that George had begun to reject him like the rest of them. It broke his heart when tears welled in his mother's eyes. When Percy returned to his flat, he drowned himself in Firewhiskey, not caring that he had work the next morning. Even now the only thing he remembered from that night was thinking that if George was going to ignore the Checklist, so could he. Thank goodness his co-workers had been so understanding. One look at Percy and they physically shoved him back into the fireplace. Percy didn't want special treatment, and it was completely unprofessional behavior, but he was grateful for his co-workers. To make it fair, he forced himself to lighten up on them. After all, no one had escaped the effects of the war, and Percy wasn't the only one grieving for a lost family member. He kept things as efficient as possible, but he was sensitive to their needs, and it made for a balanced work environment that Percy actually found himself enjoying. Even now in his completely exhausted state, he felt a hint of satisfaction with his work. It was the only part of his life where he could express that feeling, and he relished it when he could.

Stretching, Percy yawned and rose from the couch, considering what to eat for dinner. He opened the cabinet door and smirked.

"Which one of mum's meals do I want to heat up?" he asked himself, amused by the sheer amount of plates his mother had insisted he take with him. She was determined to feed him as always, and Percy couldn't help but be appreciative that she had acknowledged his need for privacy. He really could only tolerate the Burrow a few nights a week. With Hermione and Ginny back at school, Harry gone doing Auror business half of the time, George and Ron appearing sporadically, and everyone else back at their own homes, it was becoming even more awkward. Forced into regular conversation with his parents, Percy was increasingly forced to recognize just how little he had in common with them. Though he could sometimes talk with his father about work, it was still dull and overly formal. Then, when they_ did_ broach more casual topics, it inevitably steered toward George and his lack of progress. Percy didn't know how much longer he could deal with the pressure on his shoulders. He had to get through to George somehow, he _needed_ to. Everyone was depending on him.

Percy sighed, feeling less hungry. Though his appetite constantly waned, he forced himself to eat for the sake of his family. He didn't want them to be hurt by him again. Muttering a spell to heat up the food, he took the now steaming plate, utensils and a glass of water to his study. There, sitting prim in his chair, delicately slicing everything and chewing mechanically, he reviewed the Checklist and wracked his brains for a solution. He was so engrossed that he almost missed the noise from the living room that signaled someone's arrival via Floo. When he did realize it a moment later, he jumped to his feet.

"George?" he called hopefully as he headed into the living room. When he saw who it was he deflated slightly in surprise. "Oh."

Ron's face was sour. "Sorry to disappoint you."

Percy blinked. "Oh, no, please…I…I just thought you were George."

"Yeah. I get it."

Percy was at a loss for how to explain himself. It wasn't as if Ron had ever visited him before.

"I just…I wasn't expecting you."

Ron huffed as he plopped into one of the couches and avoided Percy's wondering gaze.

"Ron, are you alright?" Percy asked, scrutinizing his youngest brother's shadowed face.

Ron shook his head. "I didn't want to go home. Mum and Dad are…the usual. And George is…well, how he's been for a while. I just needed to get out."

"And Harry's…still away?" Percy asked tentatively.

"Yeah."

"Oh. I see. Erm…Can I…get you something? Tea perhaps?"

Ron shrugged.

Percy went to the kitchen area and busied himself with the kettle, trying to make sense of Ron's visit. He spoke in pleasantries to cover his confusion.

"So how is your work with Lee going? _Phoenix_ has really taken off, hasn't it?"

"Yeah it has."

Ron wasn't making this easy, Percy mused. "Erm…so what do you do for _Phoenix_ again?"

There was quiet for a moment, and then, "It's not good enough."

Setting the kettle down, Percy came into the living room and eyed his brother concernedly. "What?"

"It's not good enough!" Ron repeated, slamming his fists into his thighs. "I'm not doing anything useful! Sure, the radio's great, but things are still so bloody messed up! Have you talked to George?" His manic eyes connected with Percy's, who glanced down in defeat. "Exactly! He hasn't spoken to anyone in a whole sodding month! Mum's crying all the time but pretending she isn't, and Dad's barely slept in just as long! And what am I doing? I'm sorting through posts where half of them are rumors made up by people who conveniently forgot we were just in a bloody war! What good am I doing?" Ron heaved a breath and added in a smaller voice, "Hermione and Ginny are at school. Everyone else is working and doing important things. And I'm just…" He trailed off, staring at the floor.

Percy swallowed and sat next to his brother.

"You _are_ doing important things, Ron—"

"Really? More important than changing the government or capturing the rest of the Death Eaters?"

Percy sighed. "Ron, you must consider everything in perspective. You're doing the best you can dealing with all that's happened. You may feel that your work is not as important, but the world needs _Phoenix_ as an outlet. It's not just news; it's entertainment. People need it to recover from grief, and to actually enjoy life again. You cheer people up—"

"Hardly," Ron cut in. "I'm not cheering up George, am I?"

Percy inhaled slowly. "George…well, he's…I wish I could get through to him, and I'm sorry I haven't."

Ron glanced up, aghast. "You're not getting through to George? Well at least you did for a while! He actually talked to you! Meanwhile I'm bloody fooling around with Lee and…" He sighed.

"It's not your fault that George regressed, Ron."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I know. But I just feel so…"

"Helpless?" Percy offered, giving Ron a tired smile when his brother gazed at him.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "That sounds about right."

The brothers sank back into the couch, sharing a moment of silence when the teakettle abruptly whistled. Percy leapt up and poured some water into two cups with teabags already in them. He brought them over to the couch and handed one to Ron, who took it resignedly.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"You're welcome." Percy sat beside him and lightly sipped his tea, enjoying its warmth all the way down to his stomach.

"I miss Hermione," Ron said suddenly.

"So do I. She was quite efficient in the workplace."

Ron raised an eyebrow at Percy. "She's also my _girlfriend_, and I miss her."

"Of course. I know how that is," Percy replied without thinking.

"Right. You and Penelope."

Percy stiffened, berating himself. "Yes." He hurried to change the subject. "But Hermione will be able to visit soon, right?"

Ron didn't get the hint. "Are you still with her?"

"No." Percy stood up quickly and made his way back to the kitchen area.

"Why not?" Ron called after him.

Percy halted in place and faced Ron again. "Ron, why are you _really_ here?"

Ron's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you inquiring about my love life? I'm not prying into yours, am I?"

"I was just going to ask about long-distance relationships! I thought you were still with Penelope—"

"We haven't been together for almost a year!" Percy snapped. "I appreciate your asking!"

Ron's ears flushed in shame. "Look, I'm sorry. I just thought—"

"You know what, forget it. Never mind. I'm sorry I yelled at you." Percy returned to the kitchen and found that he wanted more tea, but had left his teacup in the other room. He was startled when footsteps came behind him and he turned to find Ron standing there, a sheepish expression on his face, as he held both of their teacups in front of him. Wordlessly he handed Percy's back to him and then avoided his eyes, clearly uncomfortable.

"Erm…I should be the one who's sorry. I haven't visited."

Percy sighed. "It's alright. I didn't think you would."

Ron's head snapped up. "What do you mean by that?"

"I…I thought after everything…all that I said about Harry in that letter and then with Fred that…"

"That I what, hated you or something?"

Percy cringed. "Erm…"

"I don't, Percy. Though I do think you're a bit mental."

Percy felt his chest lighten as he and Ron exchanged grins. "Well," Percy said, straightening, "You _do_ remind me of myself, so what does that say of you?"

"At least I acknowledge that I'm mental," Ron retorted, smirking. His good humor faded. "We're all a bit mental now, though George is…"

Percy put his hand on Ron's shoulder. "We'll get through this."

"Really?" Ron asked doubtfully.

"We will. We have each other and that's all we need."

Ron nodded and then grinned wickedly. "Look, Perce, I realize we've both been without someone for a while, but I'm not really into snogging right now…"

Percy tried to swat him as Ron laughed and ducked.

"Too slow, mate. Someone here didn't play Quidditch!"

"Because it's dangerous and I have a petite build!"

Ron burst out laughing. "Petite build?"

Percy's indignant expression faded to a smile. "Yes. And I never really liked it. There, that's off my chest."

"Shock," Ron cheeked. "Oh, and did you hear about Ginny? That she's captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team this year?"

"Yes, I heard that from Mum. I sent her a congratulatory note."

"She's going to be fantastic at it! I know she really was looking forward to playing again after last year."

"Yes. She's quite talented."

"Yeah."

The brothers once again shared a silence, though it was somehow more comfortable than before.

"I appreciate your coming, Ron," Percy spoke up after a while. "I really do."

"Yeah, don't mention it. I'll come by more often now that I know you're not_ completely_ mental yet."

"No, not completely anyways," Percy agreed.

"So…erm…how's it going then?" Ron asked awkwardly.

"Same as always." Percy refilled his cup and led Ron back to the couches.

Ron frowned. "Sorry to 'pry' but…you didn't break up because of the long-distance thing, did you?"

Percy shook his head, sighing. "No, Ron. It was far more complicated than that. And no, I don't think it's going to be a problem for you and Hermione. I've seen you two together and your case is very different from mine. You went through so much together. I don't think her being at school will affect your relationship."

"You think so?" Ron asked, clearly anxious about it. "This summer was…really great in some ways and I just…I want us to be…together, you know?"

"And you will be," Percy assured him. "Is that really what you were so worried about?"

"I guess. And Perce, I'm sorry about Penelope. Unless…was it a mutual thing?"

Percy's jaw tightened and he set his teacup down on the coffee table. "No, it wasn't."

"You let her down easy?"

"No."

Ron was shocked. "What?"

"I didn't break up with her. _She_ broke up with _me_."

"Oh."

Percy hesitated, and then added, "I proposed to her."

Ron's eyes widened. "Merlin, really? You asked her to marry you?"

"That _is_ what proposing means, Ron. And yes. I…I had this wonderful vision in my head of where I wanted us to be in the future. Our own house in the countryside, Ministry jobs, kids…but…."

"But what?"

"But she didn't want to be with me. The me that…abandoned everyone. That…was ignorant and blind and foolish!"

"Yeah, I can understand that," Ron mused aloud, growing shamefaced when Percy shot him a glare.

"This is a secret, you know. No one else knows that I proposed to her. I would appreciate some discretion!"

Ron was taken aback. "Even Mum and Dad don't know?"

Percy shook his head. "They just know we're not together anymore. I didn't tell anyone at the time. I…didn't have anyone _to_ tell."

"Oh, right. Merlin, I'm sorry, Perce. No one deserves that."

"I did, though."

"Oh come off it!"

"We'll agree to disagree then."

This time it was Ron who sighed. "Listen, I'm sorry, Perce. I should've visited. But it's been so…rough. I just don't know what to do anymore."

"It must be even stranger for you to be back home," Percy added. He looked at Ron and smiled. "You did a brave and loyal thing, sticking with Harry. I'm…proud of you, Ron." Ron swelled and tried to hide his pleasure at the compliment. Percy continued with a new warmth in his chest, "And even I must admit that I'm really glad you didn't follow my advice."

Ron snorted. "Who are you and what have you done with my prat of a brother?"

"Oh, he's still here, I assure—" he broke off with a yawn and Ron jumped up, realizing the time.

"It's late. I should probably head home."

Percy waved his hand dismissively. "Do what you like. I can stay up more if you want, though I do have work in the morning."

"Knowing you you're probably up at five in the morning outlining your to-do list," Ron smirked. "No, I think I'd best be off. It…erm…it was good talking to you, Percy."

Percy smiled. "Same, Ron. Have a good night."

"Yeah. See you." Ron waved quickly before grabbing some Floo Powder and disappearing into the flames. Percy lay back and smiled again to himself. He might be failing George, but he was doing something right with at least _one_ of his brothers. Immensely satisfied, Percy let the peaceful feeling flood his body until he was fast asleep right there on the couch.

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><p>How many months had passed since the battle? How many days? How many hours? George had no idea. Time had lost all meaning for him. He remembered that at some point he had cared, but he couldn't remember when he had <em>stopped<em> caring. It seemed to him that time had never really existed at all – what's twenty years when a mere second changes everything?

For a long while now, he had lived in a haze of days and nights, sleeping and waking, of meals brought to his room and left on the desk, and people talking to him at regular intervals. They were his clockwork. They ticked like clockwork; he could tell who it was by the footsteps up the stairs. But it didn't matter, really, because he didn't talk to any of them, no matter who they were. Besides, they were blurs in the vacuum of time, slowing down and speeding up for no reason, bustling about so their faces and their clothes and their voices and their smells were indistinguishable and utterly insignificant. The only thing that was important was the place where he lay rotting. Fred. His brother. His twin. Dead. Underground. Rotting.

Whenever George awoke, if he wasn't at the grave, then he immediately went to it. The faceless people that surrounded him had tried to prevent him before, but then he stopped eating and they apparently didn't like that. It was their bargain now. He would consume tasteless food, and they would give him a Portkey right to the spot he loved best. He would spend countless time there and then he would be back in his bedroom with one bed. Sometimes people would accompany him, sometimes not. Sometimes he would wake up somewhere not remembering how he got there. None of it concerned him. He was with his twin when he needed to be. He was where he should've been, except he wasn't quite rotting yet. If time and places could lose all meaning, then maybe life could lose meaning, too, and then he and Fred would grow up together and die together like they were supposed to.

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><p><em>AN: I wasn't planning initially to do the conversation with Ron, but then Ron appeared in my head and bugged me about it, haha! Reviews definitely inspired that one, and I think it needed to happen! So thank you again! _

_Also, to say something happy after that little depressing bit at the end, I just got back from vacation in Florida where I WENT TO THE WIZARDING WORLD OF HARRY POTTER! :D As you can expect, it was AMAZING, though smaller than I imagined, haha! The ride in Hogwarts is DEFINITELY worth the wait, and I highly recommend the Pumpkin Juice, though the Butterbeer was pretty good, too! I could go on and on, but I feel like most of you will probably want to kill me out of jealousy– I know my friend does! – so I'll just stop there and hope that all of you lovely people will get the chance to go at some point! You may get to see a new ride, too – Gringotts – which sounds really awesome! It was so worth every penny! Definitely go if you get a chance, though I probably don't need to tell you twice! ;p_


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: OH MY GOSH I feel so terrible for leaving you all hanging so long! Believe me, nothing frustrates me more than an author who doesn't update in forever! Unfortunately, life is very busy, and this story goes to the bottom of my priority list…(blah blah, excuses, blah blah) It doesn't help that I'm a second-semester senior either! _

_Anyways, I wanted to update with most of the next chapter just so that you know I'm still alive and have definitely NOT abandoned this story! There was one more scene that I wanted to add, but I haven't written it yet, and I figure a little something is better than not having anything for a few more months (as I have no more breaks until graduation!) so here it is! I don't think the scene will be long enough to merit its own chapter, so I'm probably going to add it onto this one when I get around to writing it and remind you all to go back and read it when I update the next chapter!_

_Thanks for being so patient! You guys are amazing! Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 11<span>

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Percy!"

It was mid-December, and Percy was dining at the Burrow now that most everyone was home. The girls had returned from Hogwarts for the holidays, and even Harry had requested some time off to spend with his family. There were still notable absences of course – his mother and George at the moment – but it was still comforting having everyone else there, which was why Percy hesitated to refute his sister for calling him ridiculous. He felt guilty for bringing it up at all. But now they were all staring at him, and he had to answer.

"I'm not being ridiculous, Ginny, I just think it's hardly appropriate for what's been going on—"

"What are you talking about?" Ron interrupted curiously, his mouth full of mashed potatoes. Hermione shot him a look.

"Manners, Ron! Honestly. And you're discussing the Ministry's holiday party, right?"

"Oh," Ron murmured, swallowing loudly. "That one we all got invited to?"

"Oi, I didn't get invited!" Ginny cut in.

"Yes, but you'll be going anyways…right? I mean…" he trailed off awkwardly and indicated Harry, who was trying hard not to laugh at Ron's queasy expression.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well of course Harry invited me, but I'm still offended I didn't get an invitation!"

"You shouldn't be," Harry said. "I mean, it's just mingling with the Ministry. It's not exactly the most fun—" he stopped short and appeared horrified as he turned to Arthur and Percy. "Erm, no offense!" he added hurriedly.

"None taken," Arthur replied, smiling. "We can be a bit stiff, but when the egg nog flows and there's warm food, people do get around to having some fun I should think."

"I hope so," Ginny said. "It'll be fun going out together."

Ron huffed. "You just want to show off!"

Ginny grinned wickedly and winked at Harry, who rolled his eyes. "Maybe just a little bit."

Before Ron could retort, Hermione interjected. "So what's the matter, Percy?

Now it was Ginny's turn to roll her eyes. "He was just saying that he didn't think it was appropriate for him to go. Which is complete bollocks if you ask me."

"Ginny, language," Arthur warned before eyeing Percy. "Appropriate? What do you mean by that?"

Percy squirmed uncomfortably. "I mean to say that…the party is a _party_…it's…"

"Fun?" Ron offered. "You don't want to go because it might be fun?"

"Sounds like Percy," Ginny laughed.

Percy frowned at his younger siblings. "No, it's not that! It's just…it _is_ supposed to be a…relaxing social event and…what with Mum and George as they are…it just…doesn't seem right…" he trailed off as the mood grew somber.

"Percy," Arthur spoke up at last. "We don't want you to not have fun. This is a rough time for all of us, yes, and especially for your mother and George, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try to enjoy ourselves sometimes. After all, even she's going to go."

"Really?" Ginny asked in surprise. "Mum agreed to go to the party?"

"Well…not yet," Arthur admitted. "But I don't plan on giving her a choice. She needs to get out of the house…and not just to the cemetery." The others followed his gaze as he glanced at the clock in the living room, where the hands for George and Molly were still on 'Lost.' They all remembered a time when there had been another hand on the clock, and the day when their mum had discovered the broken one on the floor and had sobbed for hours.

"Hope they're back soon. It's supposed to snow tonight," Ginny mused absently after a short silence. She eyed the dark kitchen windows and then smiled at Harry, who Percy guessed had squeezed her hand under the table. It was amusing for him to watch the couples so clearly in love. Even Ron tried so hard to pretend that he wasn't, but he obviously had eyes only for Hermione. It made him feel so lonely sometimes.

"So are you going to go, Percy?" Hermione interrupted his inner thoughts.

Percy started and then glanced down in embarrassment.

"I…I suppose I'll go…but…who will look after George?"

"I've asked Bill and Fleur to come for the night. You should go," Arthur encouraged softly.

Percy gazed at all of their faces and finally nodded in defeat. "Alright, I'll go."

"Excellent! It'll be lovely seeing all our co-workers again," Hermione said. "I'll have to introduce you, Ron."

"Great," Ron said without enthusiasm. Hermione pursed her lips and let out a frustrated sigh.

"But you _will_ have to work on your manners first!"

* * *

><p>Percy lingered at the Burrow a little longer than usual that evening, waiting for his mum to come home with George. When she finally did, with a zombie-like George trailing her obediently, the good mood of the night seemed to fade, and he regretted his decision to attend the party after all. How could he go out and enjoy himself when his brother had given up, and his mother was close to breaking from the strain?<p>

"Hey Mum," he greeted softly as she came around the corner. Her face was red from the cold, and there was a light dusting of snow on her coat and hair.

"Oh, Percy dear," she started, attempting and failing to smile. "How are you, darling?"

"I'm…good. Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Now Georgie, you must be off to bed. Pip pip!" She waved her hands, shooing George to the stairs, but he didn't seem to hear her. Percy's heart broke at the crestfallen expression that came over her face.

"I've got him. It's alright, Mum," he murmured, surging forward to steer George to his room.

His mother blinked and nodded absently, straining to smile. "Yes, thank you, love. I'll just be…off to bed myself. Good night! Love you both."

"I love you too, Mum. And George does, too." Percy watched her hobble away, and turned to George with a deep sigh. His brother's gaze was unfocused, and he stood unmoving. "You're causing us so much grief, you know. I understand why, but I wish you'd just come back to us. Things were hard before, but not like this." He searched George's face for any hint of reaction, more out of instinct than anything, for he knew what he would find. Sighing again, he gripped George's shoulder and slowly led him upstairs. At the second landing, they paused before entering George's old room. According to his parents, the room seemed to comfort him now, rather than before when he couldn't stand the sight of it. They had also quickly learned to leave Fred's bed alone. His father, at first, feared it would be too much for him and had moved it into Percy's room, but apparently that night, George had woken the house screaming bloody murder and it wasn't until the bed was back in place that he stopped. Now, the room was just as it was before, minus the boxes of their products which they had initially stored there. As Percy helped George settle onto his bed, he smiled grimly at the faint but detectable odor of gunpowder from the results of all their experiments. No wonder he was at peace here.

All of a sudden, Percy was struck with an idea that just might bring George back from the dead. It was crazy, and completely against everything Percy believed, but it just might work. Or would it? Considering it again, he realized he would need to confer with someone else. When he thought about who, he caught himself grinning. He quickly helped George get ready for bed, and then, closing the door, he made his way down the landing, practically running in excitement. Without knocking, he barged right into Ginny's room. He soon recognized his mistake.

There came the sound of yelling, and then he was getting pummeled out of the door by a furiously blushing Ginny who had been right in the middle of snogging her boyfriend. Harry, for his part, was looking rather mortified, though the creeping blush on his face quickly vanished behind a slamming door. In the hallway, Percy stood, trying to process what had just happened, when Ginny reappeared breathing heavily, her eyes flashing lividly.

"Out of everyone I thought _you_ would have the bloody decency to knock! But no, I suppose all of my brothers need to walk in on me at some point! Ugh!" she raged. "This _is_ my room you know! And there's a reason the door is closed!"

Percy blinked and opened his mouth furiously. "_Is there_?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Ugh, no! I mean, so what if— I'm an _adult_ and…I am _not _having this conversation with you right now! What was so bloody important that you had to interrupt?"

"It's George," Percy said quickly. The blood drained from Ginny's face.

"Oh Merlin, is he alright? I'm so sorry! You should have just told me—"

"No," Percy interrupted, halting her speech by waving his hands dismissively. "It's not bad. Actually, it could be good. But I need your help."

Ginny appeared conflicted between her previous anger and her present worry.

"What are you…what are you going on about?"

Percy smiled. "I have an idea that just might make George return to us for good."

* * *

><p>For once in his life, Percy felt awkward at a Ministry function. Perhaps it was his dress robes, which seemed both tighter and looser than usual, or maybe it was his distinct lack of a guest beside him, but he felt more self-conscious and out of place than ever. Even bumping into his co-workers didn't help, as they and their shining guests just further emphasized how alone he was, despite his parents' thoughtful efforts to stay near him. It was actually rather embarrassing, though Percy couldn't help but smile as he watched his mother, who was more cheerful than she had been in months; he strongly suspected his father and some spiked eggnog had much to do with that. Still, it was an improvement to see her smile and laugh like she used to, and so far that in itself made the whole party worth it.<p>

Hovering near the back of the banquet hall, Percy stealthily slipped away from his parents and headed for the refreshment table, where drinks were being magically replenished and poured into cups every time someone approached the table. Percy grabbed a floating goblet of pumpkin juice and, taking a careful sip, ventured down the wall toward an excellent vantage point where he could watch people without being noticed.

The hall was decorated beautifully, with the wide sweeping ceilings covered in red and green garland and glowing golden orbs, and an enormous Christmas tree at the opposite corner with ornaments the size of Percy's head that twinkled intermittently. Soft choral music was just barely heard underneath the clamor of the semi-drunk crowds gathered in clusters, laughing and swaying and unknowingly spilling the contents of their drinks on the floor, which, luckily, had an anti-spill charm on it to keep it dry and safe. In the center of the hubbub was a large circle of people anxiously clambering to have their voices heard over the din by Harry Potter or the Minister, who were chatting amicably in the center and utterly ignoring the rest as they conversed with occasional input from Ron, Ginny or Hermione. Percy was impressed at how nonchalant they all appeared in the face of such a daunting crowd, though he supposed they were used to their fame by now and knew how to handle it.

"Mr. Weasley? Uh…Percy?"

Percy blinked stupidly at the woman who had appeared in front of him, resplendent in velvet red robes bordered with lace.

"Oh, my, Miss Littleton – I mean, Audrey!" he sputtered, wondering if the pumpkin juice was also spiked.

Audrey laughed, clearly also embarrassed, and Percy joined her for a moment before they stopped.

"Audrey, it's…been a while, hasn't it? I didn't expect to run into you here," Percy said quickly.

"Well, I do still work at the Ministry," Audrey replied, grinning.

"Right." Why was his brain so slow tonight? "Oh yes, I heard at the department meeting the other day that you got a promotion. Congratulations."

"Thank you. It's been…rather difficult, actually, so that was a big relief. How are things back your way?"

"Good. I think we've finally adjusted to having Hermione…erm, Miss Granger, away at Hogwarts, and we're getting on steadily now. I suppose the only news is that Boot has a new girlfriend."

"Another?" Audrey grinned. "I remember when I was there he already had what, two?"

"Yes, well, he appears to be quite a…ladies man."

Audrey laughed and there was silence for a few moments. Percy anxiously took a sip of his pumpkin juice as he felt her eyes studying him.

"If you don't mind me saying…you look well," Audrey said.

"Thank you," Percy said quickly, not sure if that was the right thing to say. "It's really…it's thanks to you of course." Swallowing heavily, he forced himself to meet her eyes. "Really, thank you."

She blushed and looked away. "Please. I was far too nosy for my own good."

"You saved my life," Percy insisted.

"That's not… Sounds too…dramatic," she stammered, slowly raising her head to give him a small smile.

As they stared at one another, Percy found himself asking, "Do you want a drink?"

Audrey raised her hand, which was holding a goblet of liquid. "I have one," she laughed.

"Right." Percy glanced at his shoes and then back up. "Oh, well, I don't want to keep you from your date."

"I didn't bring one," she said, rolling her eyes. "I did ask my dad, but he's such a humbug around Christmas time. Hates the cold, hates socializing. He'd rather stay at home and grumble."

"I know the feeling," Percy admitted. "Erm, so how is your father? I hope he is doing well?"

"Well enough. The holidays are always difficult."

"I…know that feeling, too."

"So how is your family doing?" Audrey asked.

"They're…alright." Percy glanced into the crowd and saw his parents dancing slowly with several other couples. His mum's head was resting on his dad's shoulder, her face turned away, as they swayed to the soft music. "Several of them are here, actually. My parents, my brother Ron, and my sister Ginny." He pointed them out and Audrey smiled.

"I can't believe I'm in the same room as so many famous people! Even…Harry Potter! Though I suppose your family is rather close with him so it's not really strange for you… Is he…?"

"With my sister? Yes."

"Wow," Audrey breathed. "That must be…interesting. Can't really find a better one, can she?"

"No, I suppose not…" Percy let out a small chuckle. "Poor bloke, though. He has lots of pressure on him. One mistake and he's got all six of us brothers to deal with… I mean…all five of us." His good humor faded as Audrey bit her lip.

"So…what are your plans for Christmas?"

"Not sure," Percy said softly after a moment. "My mum usually organizes it, but she's not been…very well lately. And my brother George is..." He trailed off.

"I'm sorry," Audrey said.

"Yeah. We all are. I wish there was an easy way to get through to him. Actually I've come up with something, but it could either work or…completely backfire."

"What is it?" Audrey sipped lightly at her drink and Percy realized that she had finished it.

"Oh, shall we go refill our goblets?"

Audrey blinked and then laughed. "I hadn't noticed! Sure."

Together they headed toward the refreshment table, chatting on the way and continuing long after. Percy wasn't sure how many times he replenished his drink, but time seemed to pass quickly for him. In fact, he was so involved in their conversation that he jumped when someone abruptly called his name.

"Percy? Percy? Oh, there you are," Ginny said, dragging Harry behind her. Ron and Hermione closely followed.

"Hermione!" Audrey greeted.

"Audrey! It's great to see you! How is everything?" Hermione said.

"Just great, and you?" Audrey asked.

"Pretty good. Hogwarts seems like nothing now—"

"Though she's still studying more than she needs to," Ron cut in.

"Ron!" Hermione shot him a glare. "Oh, Audrey, this is Ron. Ron, Audrey."

"Hey," Ron said, shaking hands.

"I'm meeting so many famous people!" Audrey laughed.

"Famous? Why you should meet Mr. Harry Potter," Ron grinned, jerking his head at Harry. "So, Mr. Boy Who Lived, how do you predict the wizarding world will overcome its latest traumatic event?"

Harry groaned. "Sod off!" He flipped Ron the bird, who responded by laughing.

"They're so mature, as you can see," Hermione commented, exchanging a look with Ginny.

"Lovely first impressions, gentlemen," Ginny snorted, deftly whacking her brother on the arm.

Harry straightened and smiled wearily at Audrey. "Erm, sorry about that. Hi, I'm Harry." He stuck out a hand and Audrey shook it.

"It's nice to meet you. Wow, I don't even know what to say that you haven't heard before…"

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, grinning. "Hey Percy, how's it going?"

Percy was startled at being addressed suddenly, having been so intent at listening to the conversation. "Oh. Good. It's good."

"Looks like you two have been enjoying yourselves," Ginny remarked. "Oh, I'm Ginny by the way."

"Hi," Audrey said, blushing slightly.

"We were just discussing the new laws that have passed," Percy said quickly.

"Sounds interesting," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, well…someone needs to talk about them," Percy insisted, indignant.

"Oh, well we don't have to worry about them anymore," Audrey said. "I'm sure you're completely talked-out anyways."

"You can say that again," Harry muttered.

"I wish I had believed you before," Ginny added, making a face.

"Told you."

"Yeah, Gin," Ron cut in. "You're hanging out with famous people now. You gotta get used to it."

"Honestly, can your head swell anymore?" Hermione scoffed before turning back to Percy. "Anyways we came over because we're thinking of heading home soon. It's already close to midnight."

Percy blinked. "What? It's that late already?"

"Time flies when you're having fun," Ginny said suggestively, winking pointedly in Percy's direction, who sent her back a harsh look.

"Yes, that sounds good. My dad's probably still up waiting for me," Audrey said. "It was nice meeting you all." She gazed at Percy. "And it was nice talking to you."

"And you. Have a good night."

"You, too. And the rest of you, good night." With that, Audrey excused herself and exited toward the Portkey room.

"Let's go find Mum and Dad," Ron said, steering the group into the slowly dispersing throng of people. Ginny hung back to exchange a word with Percy.

"So…"

"I know what you want to say, but it's not like that," Percy said stiffly.

"Oh come on. At least promise me you'll talk to her again," Ginny said.

"It's unlikely. We work in different departments in separate wings of the Ministry."

Ginny huffed. "I mean, if you ask her out on a date."

"Ginny, I don't appreciate your intervention into my personal affairs."

"Getting a bit defensive are we?" she teased. "Just promise me you'll think about it. Or else."

"Or else?"

"You don't want to know what that means," Ginny said, grinning wickedly.

Percy sighed. "Fine, I'll think about it."

"Good. Oh, I see Mum and Dad over there!"

She skipped ahead to find the Weasley parents sitting on some chairs against the walls, practically falling asleep.

Arthur stood up as they approached and beckoned toward Molly, whose eyelids kept closing.

"I'm glad we came. We needed tonight," Arthur said.

"Yeah, it was fun," Ginny said, and the others agreed. As they half-carried their mum to the Portkeys, Percy couldn't help but reflect on the night. It _had_ been fun. He was glad the family had talked him into it. He went to bed that night very satisfied, with a hint of a smile on his face.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I almost feel like this is a filler chapter with Percy as the star, but I love his bits with Audrey. I just couldn't help myself! ;D _

_Until the next! Thanks for sticking with me!  
><em>


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Well, I am officially a college graduate! Yeah! Which also means I am currently unemployed! Which is okay for a little while, as I give myself a break and go back to writing this! I am SO sorry for being so terrible with updates, but I don't have to worry about school stopping me anymore – now it's only real life that will stop me, haha! Though I've been having some amazing ideas about where to go with this story, so we shall see…_

_I hope you enjoy this chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it when I finally forced myself to do so!_

* * *

><p>Chapter 12<p>

Christmas was going to be different for the Weasleys that year. They were all mentally preparing for it, but knew that it would never be the same again. They grimly resigned themselves to the fact that they had to get used to it. The whole family would never be there again, especially as Fred seemed to have taken George with him.

Not much had changed for George in a long while. The family tried to work around it, be flexible to his new lifestyle, but it wasn't easy pretending that everything was normal when all George did was stare blankly, shovel food into his mouth, and sit at Fred's graveside. He didn't talk to anyone anymore, and his friends found it increasingly difficult to come for a visit. No one knew how to get through to him, and it was destroying them all, especially their mum. Molly had taken to talking less and sleeping less, and her food, once her pride and joy, had become little more than rushed ingredients hastily thrown together. No one complained, of course, but they were all worried, Percy the most, as his plan to reawaken George was becoming more and more of a last ditch effort. Percy really felt that this was George's last chance, and the pressure of it weighed heavily on his mind. He tried not to think of what would happen if it, too, failed, but it plagued his nightmares in the weeks following the Ministry's holiday party, and made him jumpy and anxious. Even Ginny seemed nervous, though she was better at hiding it.

Their mum was organizing Christmas again that year, and adapting it to make it work for the family's new circumstances. They would have a small gathering at the Burrow mid-afternoon to exchange presents and enjoy a comparatively small feast, and then join George at Fred's grave where they would have warm desserts, tea, and hot chocolate. Molly was calling it a Christmas picnic, but no one was really fooled. As determined as she was to make it a joyous occasion, they were all going into it with heavy hearts. They were hopeful, but skeptical, and trying to keep things light for their mother's sake, but inside they all feared it would be counter-productive in the end. It made for a rather tense environment at the Burrow leading up to it, though anticipation of Charlie's return helped to alleviate some of the tension. He hadn't been home since a short time after the funeral, and they were all looking forward to hearing more of his outrageous stories to make them forget how much had changed.

For Percy, reuniting with Charlie was bittersweet. He hadn't seen him since the Battle at Hogwarts, and even then, his memories were not the strongest considering the emotional turmoil of that day. He wondered what it would be like seeing Charlie again now that he was back with the family, and feared his brother would judge him for his crimes to the family as he so rightly deserved. After all, though Percy wouldn't admit it, he looked up to Charlie like he looked up to Bill. They had both been good to him, defended him in his early years at Hogwarts, and though Charlie had been a rough-and-tumble sort of child – completely opposite from Percy – he knew that underneath the gruff exterior, Charlie was easy-natured and friendly with everyone. It was a trait that Percy secretly admired, though he hadn't experienced it from Charlie in a long time. He couldn't remember the last time they had spoken with one another.

The night before Charlie's arrival, Percy slept over at the Burrow in his old room. As he tried to fall asleep, he found that he couldn't turn off his mind. It was spinning with anxious musings and fearful thoughts, making him toss and turn for what felt like hours before he finally he gave up. He got out of bed and crept into the hallway, pausing to stare sadly at the closed door to George's bedroom. With a sigh, he went to the stairs, smiling to himself when he heard the muffled sounds of voices through Ginny's door, one of which was definitely male. Percy thought about what Audrey had said, about how Ginny couldn't have chosen a better boyfriend, and he found himself agreeing as he softly padded by. He was glad that Ginny had someone to talk to, and he was happy that Harry had her, too. He couldn't help but remember those days, it seemed like centuries ago, when Ginny had been swooning over the very mention of Harry's name, and had practically fainted when they first met.

Not feeling hungry, Percy steered into the living room, where he hoped to pick up a copy of a random book and pore through it for a little while. What he hadn't expected was to find Charlie lounging on one of the sofas, yawning, his clothes wrinkled and his face scruffy with the signs of a new beard. He propped his head up on his elbows as Percy hovered in the doorway, Charlie's expression unreadable in the dimness of the one lamp that was lit.

"You're here," Percy found himself saying.

"Yup. The escort was anxious to head back, so we got here fast," Charlie said, stretching. He was wearing a dragon-hide jacket that looked barely big enough to cover up his bulging muscles. "Didn't want to wake anyone up. Don't know who's here."

"Well… Your room's empty. Bill and Fleur are coming tomorrow. Erm, later, I suppose. What time is it?"

Charlie shrugged. "Late?"

Percy allowed himself a small grin and stifled a yawn.

"What are you doing up?" Charlie asked. "You can come sit you know. I'm not going to bite."

Percy accepted the invitation and sat in an armchair across from his brother. "You can never be too careful," he said. Glancing up, he saw Charlie raise his eyebrows.

"You're either delirious or not my brother. You just…made a joke. Kind of."

"Fred was surprised, too," Percy said, staring at the ground. There was a long stretch of silence in which neither of them moved, until Charlie swung his legs over the side of the couch and leaned forward, closer to Percy.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it? Since we last talked."

"Yeah. It has," Percy said.

Charlie reached forward to pat Percy's knee. "You alright? I know I haven't been around much, but… I was really glad to hear that you came back. Mum's letter was covered in tears, you know, both happy and sad. You were in a rough state."

"I'm…doing better," Percy mumbled.

"You're up in the middle of the night," Charlie pointed out.

"Yes, but it's only because I'm not in my usual bed, and I—"

"You're worrying and worrying and planning and planning," Charlie interrupted. "Right? Just like you always have?"

Percy felt like a boy again, being chided by his older brother who could see right through him. His face grew hot as he fought the urge to snap something back and start an argument.

"It's just… It's really bad around here," Percy said at last. "Mum's falling apart, everyone's sad and upset, and George is…gone. I hate being here sometimes."

Charlie seemed to think about this for a moment before he smiled grimly.

"I know the feeling, I guess. It's why I've been avoiding this place for so long."

"But you have your job," Percy insisted. "No one blames you for not being here. You're not avoiding us purposefully."

Charlie maintained his self-deprecating smile. "Are dragons really more important than family, though?"

Percy frowned. "That's ridiculous, Charlie. You know it's not like that."

Charlie shrugged. "Sometimes it seems like it is." He yawned. "Especially when it's really late and I'm exhausted. That was one hell of a ride here." He yawned again and forced himself to stand. "What do you think about bed? I'll come with you upstairs."

Percy nodded and stood. Charlie draped an arm across his shoulders and they headed up the stairs together. Outside of Percy's door, Charlie patted his shoulders and separated.

"Have a good night, Perce. See you in the morning. Oh, and remind me to tell you the story of my friend, Insane Dane."

"Insane Dane?" Percy repeated.

Charlie grinned. "He tried to legally marry a dragon. The name fits, doesn't it?"

Percy frowned in confusion, but bid Charlie goodnight anyways. As the sound of his brother's footsteps receded, Percy entered his room and sank into his bed. He stared up into the darkness for a while, thinking, before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

* * *

><p>"Bloody hell it's cold," Ron muttered as the Weasleys arrived at the cemetery and headed toward Fred's grave. Arthur shot him a warning look as Molly surged ahead, her hands full of baskets of mugs with warming enchantments and fresh-from-the-oven scones she had baked. Behind her, Bill and Charlie were loaded with thermoses of tea and hot chocolate, while Fleur held a basket of creams, sugars, plates, and napkins in her hands. Trailing Fleur was Arthur leading George, followed by Ron and Harry, with Percy and Ginny at the back. They were all bundled up against the cold, and walking briskly to keep the blood flowing.<p>

"Were you successful?" Percy whispered to Ginny as they approached.

She nodded. "And you set up the rest, right?"

"Yes," Percy said, his breath puffing into a cloud of vapor.

"Good. This is going to work," Ginny said, shoving her gloved hands into the sleeves of her coat and burrowing into her Gryffindor scarf. "Good."

At the grave, George pushed through the family to sit nearest to it, his back to the rest of them as they sat in an oblong circle and huddled together for warmth. Molly began to distribute the mugs and pour the warm drinks into them. Tendrils of steam drifted up into the frosty air, disappearing into the dying rays of sunlight as it began its descent. The cemetery was nearly empty, apart from a few stragglers dotted throughout, though no one paid them any mind. For a few minutes, the world was suspended in silence except for the pouring of the liquids, and their steady breaths in the air. Then, Bill spoke.

"This was a great idea, Mum. It's beautiful this time of day, with the sun and the frost. It's lovely." Molly only gave a small smile as she continued to dole out the food, focused wholeheartedly on her task. Bill elbowed Charlie on his left.

"What? Oh, yes, definitely. Nice to get the other extreme, you know? The cold feels good on my old burns."

At this, Molly looked up, startled. "Are you injured, dear? Should I go home for some bandages?"

"No, Mum, I said _old _burns," Charlie said hurriedly. "Nothing new. I'm fine, really. I wear dragon-hide so I don't really get hurt anymore."

"Oh," Molly said, distracted. "That's good." She began to sort the pastries and put them onto plates that they passed around.

"Mmm, these are delicious," Ginny said as she took a bite of a scone. "Hogwarts really doesn't compare, Mum. You've outdone yourself."

"Yeah, these are amazing!" Ron said, his mouth full even as he stuffed another piece in. "Rerry rerishus!"

"I hope you made enough for Ron," Ginny laughed, causing the others to chuckle.

"You better take the plate away," Harry said, smiling at her.

"Here, Percy, are you having any?" Ginny asked next to her, handing him the plate. She gave him a pointed look.

"Um, yes, of course. I wouldn't pass up on these." He grabbed one, his eyes flickering around the circle, checking on everyone's mugs. "Does everyone have their drinks? I was going to propose a toast. Mum? Dad?"

"Hold on, son," Arthur murmured. Molly was trying to give George a mug, but as usual he wasn't responding. Her shoulders slumped, she set it down next to him and raised her own mug.

"Yes, I'm ready," she said softly.

Percy inhaled a deep breath as he felt his family's eyes on him. Ginny gave him an encouraging pinch.

"I just wanted to toast to us, our family. We've…been through a lot, but we're together now and…I love all of you."

"And we're going to make it through this. It's going to be okay," Ginny added fiercely.

"To us!" Charlie declared, raising his mug.

"To the Weasleys!" Bill cried, smiling at his wife who echoed, "The Weasleys!"

"To Harry!" Ron yelled, with the rest of them repeating it.

Harry blushed. "To family!" he yelled, raising his mug.

"To family!" they all yelled, simultaneously downing a few gulps of their drinks. Almost instantly it became chaos. Ginny and Percy met each other's eyes as they both felt the tingling and then eruption of feathers that burst through their clothes and covered their entire bodies. For one glorious minute, the Weasley family was reduced to a flock of over-sized, lumpy, bright-yellow canaries, squawking and shrieking in shock and confusion. Fleur stood up and shook her arms – which were now wings – while Bill jumped to his feet, uttering comforts that couldn't be understood through his huge beak. Charlie and Ginny were laughing, while Ron and Harry were just staring around in disbelief, shouting, "What's going on?" Molly and Arthur were stunned, but when they glanced at George and saw that he was the same, they came together and embraced. As Molly wept, Arthur demanded who was behind this, his eyes finally resting on the strangely calm Percy.

"What's happening? Why are you…? Did you…?" Arthur sputtered. Percy said nothing as, all at once, the spell abated. Feathers dropped in huge clumps to the ground and promptly vanished. They were all breathing loudly, and many of them were double-checking that all the feathers were gone.

"What iz going on?" Fleur cried out, sinking beside her husband.

"I dunno, but that was the funniest thing I've seen in a while!" Charlie said, bringing the mug to his lips only to transform into a canary yet again. He flapped his wings and laughed ridiculously, causing Bill to take another sip himself. Fleur stared at her husband like he had gone mad, but then she relented and took a drink. Ron and Harry dared each other to take another drink, and soon they were laughing at each other and clutching their stomachs.

"You still have the scar!" Ron's voice could barely be heard over his wheezing laughter.

Ginny sipped at her drink and, as a newly formed canary, began to pose, lifting her wings and jutting out her pronged feet.

"I wonder if I can fly like this?" came Charlie's voice as he asked for refills, his feathers molting only to immediately be replaced by more. Molly and Arthur were beside themselves trying to understand what was going on, and scrambled to the drinks, wondering who could have laced them with canary creams, when there was a huge bang and the twilit sky exploded. There were shocking-pink wheels, fire-breathing dragons, sparks that spelled out profanity, rockets with tails of silver stars, and burning firecrackers, all colliding and exploding out of control.

Percy, who had snuck away to light them with a Stunning Spell, returned to the group, took a drink, became a canary, and watched the results of his planning. The family, initially fearful, watched the sky now in awe, sometimes forgetting that the drinks were laced and laughing when they became canaries again. Even Molly had ceased her weeping, and was leaning against Arthur and smiling tearfully at the handiwork that the twins had created. Occasionally someone would sneak a peek at George, but their attention was mostly diverted to the flashing lights and booming sounds of the fireworks above them.

Thus, it was Percy who first noticed it.

* * *

><p>Where was that noise coming from? Wait, who was asking? Who was there? Anyone?<p>

George slowly opened his eyes. He was surrounded by a deep, dark void of black that felt infinite yet claustrophobic at the same time. He knew for sure he was alone, that he had been alone for a while, but he couldn't remember what he had been doing, or how long he had been doing it. The void stretched endlessly, sucking time and light into its darkness, smothering it with nothingness.

But there it was again. That sound. A bang. Followed by a flash. A storm? It was familiar, but not a storm. Underneath the bangs was another sound, not rain. Something he knew. Something he loved. He frowned. What was it?

He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. Fragments of light as thin and long as a strand of hair were appearing throughout the void, widening with each second, dissolving the darkness and replacing it with the image of a stone. A grave. He could read the name on it.

_Frederick Gideon Weasley 1978-1998. Beloved son and brother. Your laughter lives on._

There was a picture below it, too. The man in the picture was winking at him.

"Come on, Georgie, wake up already!" came a voice, and George knew the picture was talking to him. He wanted to reply and say that he couldn't, but he blinked and the void was gone and he realized that he was really cold and he didn't know why.

Blinking again, George returned to himself. He jumped when the sky boomed, and he looked up to see the fireworks.

"Wild-fire whizz-bangs," he spoke aloud, surprising himself with how gruff his voice was. Looking down at himself, he saw that he was dressed for winter weather – hadn't it only been the end of summer? Or autumn? What day was it? No, what year was it? His breath coalesced into clouds of vapor as he surveyed his surroundings. The cemetery, with Hogwarts looming high on the hills behind them. His family huddled together, watching the fireworks, laughing. And some of them…were giant canaries? Was this real?

"What the bloody…" he said, swiveling around to meet Percy's eyes. "Perce?"

Percy said something to him, but he couldn't hear over the boom of a firecracker. Percy seemed to be pointing to his mug, and George saw that he had one right beside him. It was still warm thanks to an enchantment, and the hot chocolate felt wonderful sliding down his throat…until there was tingling and feathers. "Canary creams! You spiked them!" George said, grinning. Percy shuffled over to him, his eyes wide.

"Are you back? For real?"

George frowned, or at least tried to, but it was difficult with all the feathers. He waited for them to molt off.

"Am I back? I guess I am. I mean, where was I?"

"You were gone," Percy said.

"Gone? Where?"

"With Fred."

George turned back to Fred's grave and felt the sadness hit him, but it wasn't as painful as before. It still tightened around his lungs, but then he drank some more hot chocolate and the canary cream drove it away until it wasn't as heavy and it wasn't as difficult to breathe. Instead, he felt lighter, warmer, and, as he glanced around at his family, he felt happier.

"I'm…back," he said slowly, and then Percy made a strangled noise and was choking the life out of him with a hug. There came great shouts and George's family swarmed him, laughing and crying, some of them hugging him with their canary wings as they accidentally took another sip of their drinks. George, in the middle of the madness, felt tears streaming down his own face as he was surrounded by love and grief and joy. He craned back his neck to watch the flashing lights and bright colors of his creations, his and Fred's creations, and he let out a laugh as silver- and pink-colored pigs flew across the sky.

"Nice try, Freddie," he said. "But you're going to have to wait a little longer."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I can't believe how long it took me to write this! I had this scene in mind forever, but I just couldn't make myself write it…and then I kept coming up with awesome scenes AFTER this! Luckily, I finally sat down and did it, and it came out much longer than I thought! Especially the conversation with Charlie – I hadn't planned for it; it just happened! Isn't it awesome that characters and stories sometimes just take on minds of their own? _

_Thanks, as always, for your patience and support! It means a lot to me!_


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Since he's been absent for so long, have a full chapter with George in it, even from Percy's perspective!_

* * *

><p>Chapter 13<p>

Percy was definitely not drunk. Definitely not…though he couldn't quite remember how many drinks he had had. That is, how many drinks Boot and Corner had forced on him while the rest of them cheered him on. All he knew was that his head felt thick and slow, and the world was tilting all around him. The ground must've been terribly uneven as well, because he kept stumbling as he made his way to the fireplace to Floo back to his flat. He waved goodbye to his co-workers and stepped into the flames, popping into his flat and not questioning why the lights were on.

As he yawned, a voice called out to him and he nearly fell over.

"George!" he shouted.

George was lounging on the couch, a piece of paper against his propped knees. He looked up innocently.

"Oh hello, Percy. Back from a late night? I suppose I can cross off number seven – look at you, actually socializing," he said.

"What are you—? Why are you in my house? What…is something wrong?" Percy sputtered, blinking past a dizzy spell.

"Nothing's wrong," George answered. "I just invited myself over. Hope you don't mind. Wanted to update the checklist, you know?"

"The checklist?" Percy said. His words felt sluggish, like they were slogging through mud to get to his mouth.

"Yes. You do remember it? The _Whiskey_ Checklist? Reckon you've had enough of that tonight. Would you mind adding more to my side? I've completed the first two now. While you were busy I was off talking to Dad, so now I've talked to everyone in the family."

"What?"

George made a face. "You remember what you wrote? 'Eight sentences, no more than two one-word replies in a row.' Ringing any bells?" He sighed and shifted over so there was room on the couch. "Come sit, Perce, before you fall down."

Percy, confused, decided to obey and slumped onto the couch. George handed him the checklist. "What do you want?" Percy asked.

"Add something new to my side," George said. "I'm bored."

Percy looked down at the list. George had talked to the family, and he had visited Fred's grave. The only thing not crossed off on his side was number three: Get a job.

"But you haven't done it yet," Percy said. He abruptly recalled that he was mad at George. "Why should I? You…you made me look…like a fool!"

"I can't help it if I'm not Ministry material," George said, but Percy was fuming. He had seen that George was bored. It was only a few weeks after Christmas and he was already moping about the Burrow, so Percy had offered to find him a job at the Ministry. Thinking the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes would be a good fit, Percy had inquired with the department head, a stout man with a bushy handlebar mustache by the name of Cudgens. According to Cudgens, they weren't hiring at the moment, but he would make an exception for Percy and give George an interview. All Percy had heard was that George had joked about messing with affected Muggles' memories (something about making them think their pets were gods), and had used the word 'bollocks' in conversation. Needless to say, Cudgens was less than pleased, and Percy got an earful.

"No, get a job," Percy said.

"Come on, Perce. Anything else."

"A job."

"We're not all as professional as you, Percy! It's not like I'm qualified for much, since I left Hogwarts—"

"Go back to the shop, George," Percy interrupted. "The joke shop." As soon as he said it, he regretted it. The playful look in George's eyes was replaced by a somber expression, and his face became drawn.

"I can't risk it," he said quietly after a lengthy silence.

Percy frowned. "That's stupid."

George let out a laugh. "You're drunk, Percy."

"No, I'm not," Percy insisted, amazed that his hand flapped around when he tried to point it. "You're stupid. The fireworks were good. You're fine. You're back."

"Yeah, the fireworks were great. But the shop is… It's too much. I'm scared it will bring me back _there_. I can't… I can't go back there." He met Percy's eyes. "Don't let me go back there."

Percy clapped a hand on George's shoulder. "I won't. But you should get a job. It's good for you."

"Merlin, Percy, is that all you think about?" George's irritated expression gave way to a smirk. "Though I heard from Ronniekins that you have a certain lady friend you've been writing to. Don't you think it's about time for you to _go on a date_?"

Percy would have flushed if his face weren't already red. "I don't think… It's none of your business!"

George grinned. "What's her name, Abby?"

"Audrey," Percy corrected despite himself.

"Is she hot?"

"Obviously, but… No, wait…"

Laughing, George stood up and headed into the study.

"Where are you going?" Percy demanded, rising to follow George but instead collapsing onto the couch.

George returned to the living room brandishing a quill. Holding the checklist with his other hand, he started to add another goal for Percy but paused.

"Hold up. Have you owled Penelope yet?"

Percy's face dropped. "No."

George glanced up at Percy's tone. "You're not with her anymore, are you? Since when?"

But Percy was silent. George watched him bury his face in his hands.

"Alright, alright, I won't ask. Just go on a date with this Audrey person, yeah?" George turned back to the checklist and scribbled in:

**8. Go on one or more dates with Audrey.**

"There," he said, satisfied. He smiled at Percy, but his brother was still hunched over with his face hidden. "Percy?"

Percy answered, but his voice was muffled.

"What?" George asked.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Percy said, removing his hands and leaping to his feet to run to the loo. George dropped onto the couch and put up his feet.

"It's gonna be a long night," he muttered.

* * *

><p>Several months passed. George was happy that the family seemed back to normal, and tried to keep it that way when he was with them. After that Christmas picnic, he had been shocked to see his mum small, pale, quivering, and full of tears. He had been shocked that his father's hair was significantly graying, and his siblings' faces had extra wrinkles and worry lines on them. More than that, he had been shocked that so much time had passed since he could last remember anything. It had been months. <em>Months!<em> What had he been doing during that time? Everyone kept saying that he was 'gone,' but what did _that_ mean?

It wasn't easy to be happy, but at the same time it wasn't impossible. He found that being with his family and friends helped lighten the grief. He hated that it was still lurking there, like a hard clot in his chest, but it was starting to occur to him that it wasn't going to go away anytime soon, and he couldn't keep fixating on it. He told himself that he was used to it and that it was all going to be fine. That's what carried him through his moments with everyone else. It was a different story when he was alone, but he had started to take long walks to clear his head, which helped a little bit, anyways.

Occupying some of his time was a job that Lee had gotten for him. It was complete rubbish, but it was something to do. Lee's radio station had taken off and grown to the extent that he had numerous employees and several branches. It gave Lee the opportunity to try his hand at professional Quidditch commentating, and through those connections, he had found out that the Bodmin Moor Stadium was hiring wizards and witches to clean up the stadium after the matches. A perk was that the cleaning crew got to see the match for free. The bad side was that they had to clean up after everyone, and even with the ability to use magic, it took hours.

When George wasn't doing any of those things, he was helping Angelina prepare for her Quidditch try-outs for the Harpies. The date was drawing nearer, and Angelina was fiercely determined to make it. She was fanatic, even surpassing Oliver at his craziest. She demanded absolute attention on the pitch, and George couldn't think about anything but Quidditch when he was with her. It was a perfect distraction.

On Angelina's big day, George found himself without much to do. Angelina had told him that no one was allowed to come watch the try-outs, not even her family, and he could tell that she was secretly relieved by this. She was already putting a lot of pressure on herself, so George respected her wishes and decided to spend his free time wandering along the edge of the property at the Burrow. It was the last week in March, and the air was still nippy and smelled like snow, though at the moment, the sun was weakly peeking out of the clouds. Recent snowfall left the ground wet and muddy, but George could care less as he trudged through the slush, his breaths puffing into vapor as he jammed his hands in the pockets of his coat.

George tried not to think of anything as he walked, especially not the wet coldness seeping into his shoes, but it was difficult for his mind not to cycle back to this time last year. Everything had been going to hell and his and Fred's birthday had barely been acknowledged. Not like the years before, when they had spent the week prior to their birthday planning the pranks they would do and how they would celebrate surviving another year… George's chest ached. Even though no one had brought it up, he knew they were all thinking about how he would react to his 21st birthday. They wouldn't mention it, though, for fear that he would have another mental breakdown. He wondered what they _were_ planning, if anything at all, and realized how very strongly he didn't want to be a part of it. But what could he do? Where could he go?

George completed the circuit, pondering his options, before going back inside and accepting a cup of tea from his mum. After a few sips, he excused himself to his room, still nursing the mug in his hands. He put the teacup on the windowsill and lay back on his bed to watch the steam evaporate and then cease to exist as it grew cold. His eyes unfocused as he stared, and he jumped when there came a knock at the door.

"Yeah?" he called.

But it wasn't his mum who entered. It was Angelina, her face red and streaked from what looked like dried tears. She was dressed in her Quidditch training gear, which was stained with dirt. George sat up, frowning.

"What happened? I thought you said try-outs were all day?"

"They were. But I got cut in the second round," Angelina said, her voice catching on the end.

"What? You're taking the piss!"

Angelina rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not. I wasn't…" She took a deep breath. "I just wasn't as good as I thought I was. Everyone else was faster, and smarter, and better than me. They saw right through me."

George winced. "I'm sorry. I thought – I mean, we _all_ thought you were a definite."

"So did my parents," Angelina said, sinking onto the bed next to George. "Which is why I can't go home. They're…throwing me a _party_! And now I'm just the biggest disappointment ever!"

"Don't be so hard on yourself," George said lamely.

Angelina glared at him. "Don't be so hard on myself? _Everyone's_ been telling me how awesome it will be playing for the Harpies and a bunch of them have already asked for tickets to see me play!"

"Let me guess, it was Oliver, wasn't it? The prat," George muttered.

Angelina punched George in the arm. "You're the prat! You don't get it, do you?" She buried her face in her hands. "I can't show my face around here ever again."

"So what are you doing here?" George asked.

Angelina ignored his question and plowed forward. "Quidditch is my whole life. What am I supposed to do now? I have to wait a year before I can try out again!"

"It's not that bad," George said, awkwardly rubbing her back.

"No, it's terrible! What should I do now, just sit at home without any job or any hopes for one?"

George stiffened and retracted his hand. "Is that why you came here?"

Angelina lifted her head and stared at George. "No, that's not it at all! I just couldn't go home and I knew everyone else was busy!"

"It's fine, I get it," George said flatly, standing up and muttering under his breath, "I was thinking of leaving anyways."

Angelina frowned. "What? What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"No, what did you say?" Angelina was on her feet now, her expression fierce. "George Fabian Weasley, what did you just say?"

"You sound like my mum," George said, turning his back to her.

Angelina gripped his shoulder and he was forced to face her. Their eyes met and he could see how insecure she was, how afraid and sad she felt all at once. He glanced down.

"I was thinking of leaving."

"Leaving?" she repeated. "To go where?"

"Somewhere. Anywhere. Maybe…Spain?"

"Spain. Why Spain?"

George shrugged. "Just to get away. It'll be a birthday present to myself."

There was silence for a moment. Then Angelina grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"I'm so sorry, George," she whispered. "I didn't think…"

"It's fine," he replied softly. "And I'm sorry about the Harpies, Ange. Really. I know how badly you wanted to make the team."

"It's okay. I'll just…have to try harder next time."

She sighed and leaned into him. They were quiet for a little while when George had an idea. He looked down at her.

"Do you want to come with me?"

Angelina snapped upright and gazed at him. "To Spain? Really?"

"Spain, Greece, Japan, wherever. Since you can't show your face around here anymore."

A small grin tugged at her lips even as she put her hands on her hips. "Right. Well, let me think… Alright, say I come. How exactly are we going to pay for everything?"

"The stash," George said.

"The stash?" Angelina repeated, raising her eyebrows.

"Our savings. Me and Fred put some of our earnings into it for…whatever. It was an emergency/holiday fund, you know?"

"Oh," Angelina said.

George, feeling energized, began to pace the room, grabbing a bag and stuffing random objects into it. "Alright, so let's go!"

Angelina blinked. "Wait, _now_? What about…food? And…are you serious?"

But George wasn't listening. "I don't need much, and we saved enough money to live fine for a little while. We'll just need to drop by the shop before we go to your house. Or do you want to skip your house?"

Angelina hesitated. "The shop? It's not at Gringotts?"

George shook his head. "Couldn't trust it. We concealed it in our flat above the shop. I didn't think of checking on it…but we put a lot of enchantments on it so it should still be there." He stopped and eyed Angelina. "Why? What's wrong with the shop? I'll be fine. It'll be quick. And we can just go straight to your house after. Sneak in maybe—"

"You're being serious about this," Angelina interrupted. "You're really just going to leave?"

"Yeah. I said I was. Are you coming with me or not?"

"George, I don't know about this…"

"Fine. Then stay here," he said, frustrated. He swung his bag over his shoulder. "I'm going to the shop. Are you coming?"

"The shop," Angelina whispered, suddenly seeming nervous. "Wait, George!" She reached out and grabbed his shoulder. "I'll come with you."

"You will?"

She nodded. "But…I don't think we should leave without telling anyone. People will worry."

"I'll send a note," George said as she followed him down the stairs and out the back door.

"George."

"Come on. Want to Side-Along Apparate or do it separately?"

Angelina blew out a sigh. "Together."

They disappeared with a 'pop' and found themselves on Charing Cross Road in Muggle London, right near the Leaky Cauldron. They hurried inside and entered Diagon Alley.

As they wandered down the populated street, Angelina was strangely quiet beside him. George didn't know what to make of it. He figured she was probably re-thinking her decision to come with him, and he felt a twinge of disappointment at the idea. Oh well, it was her life. He had to do this, even though he felt guilty at leaving his family so abruptly. He would definitely send a note, and soon, to at least _try_ to prevent his mum from falling apart. He sighed heavily and focused on the buildings around him, bursting with light and color. The mood in the air was infectiously cheerful and lively, as young adults and older witches and wizards shopped in small groups, sometimes hand-in-hand, laughing openly and boisterously despite the nippy air. It was night and day compared to this time last year, when everything was closed up and death loomed over the broken glass, dark shop windows, and empty streets. It was like nothing had happened.

George felt bad that his and Fred's shop was ruining the atmosphere and image of the transformed Diagon Alley. He couldn't imagine what the shop looked like now – he and Fred had boarded it up when they closed it down, and he wasn't hopeful that it had escaped further damage. He tried and failed to remember the exact date of the last time he had been to the shop, and internally braced him for what he would see.

Which was why, as he and Angelina approached, his jaw dropped and he had to stop right in the middle of the street. The boards were gone and the store looked brand new, with fresh paint and new decorations in shiny, new windows. There was even a sign posted saying that the shop would re-open soon.

George couldn't get his brain to work. What was going on?

"It's your birthday present from all of us – Lee, Katie, Oliver, Alicia. Your family chipped in, too," Angelina spoke for the first time since arriving. "We all wanted to surprise you."

George was so overwhelmed he could barely breathe. He blinked away the pricks of tears at the edges of his eyes.

"It's going to open soon?" he whispered.

Angelina gazed at him. "We were hoping it would inspire you. But we're not going to force you into anything you don't want to do. Ron said he might take over if you don't want to—" Her voice was cut off by a group of recent Hogwarts graduates talking loudly as they walked by. One of them was pointing at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"It's going to open soon!" he exclaimed.

"Brilliant!" his friend agreed. "I need to stock up on some Skiving Snackboxes for work!"

The group laughed. "And I need to get some Love Potion for Jessica!" another of them joked as their voices receded.

"See?" Angelina continued, trying to gauge his reaction. "People want the store back."

George said nothing and instead surged forward to the door. Recognizing him, the door opened immediately.

"Well that was easy… It took us forever to figure out how to get in," Angelina murmured to herself as she followed George. Inside, the shelves were clean but low-stocked, and in some places, they were completely empty. No lights were on, but it appeared that all of their advertisements and product placards would still work if he waved his wand. He went behind the counter and saw that the register drawer was open and was empty. He vaguely recalled taking what he could as he and Fred rushed out… In the back room, boxes were strewn about, open and tipped over, some with products spilling out onto the floor. George stooped to pick up a package of Edible Dark Marks.

"George?" Angelina asked tentatively, framed in the doorway. "Are you alright?"

George placed a top hat on his head and spun around, causing Angelina to gasp at his suddenly invisible head.

"Ickle Ronniekins wants to run the shop?" came his voice. "Well he won't get to."

Angelina smiled. "George?"

He removed his hat and flowed past Angelina into the store. Standing in the middle, gazing at the dream he and Fred had realized, a lump hardened in his throat and he felt like crying and laughing at the same time. Angelina came over to him and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. He hugged her back.

"I think I found you a job," George said as they pulled apart.

Angelina raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Were you inspired?"

"Why yes, I believe so."

"What about Spain?"

"It can wait," he said.

Angelina grinned, though there were tinges of sadness in her eyes.

"Happy birthday, George. And try to act surprised when we bring you here next week!"

* * *

><p><em>AN: Well this was pretty fun to write – at least drunk Percy was! Ah, what am I going to do with him? I've been having a million ideas for future scenes with George, but much less for Percy… Face it, George as a character is more fun to write! Percy is just his good old neurotic self, though I suppose that could get fun…haha! Let me know if you have any ideas, and thanks for reading!_


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Guess I found something to write about with Percy! This chapter is all him, really! Also, be prepared for lots of couples and some lovely limes. _

_Enjoy! :)_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 14<span>

"Percy, dear, could you go out and pick some basil from the garden?"

Percy, curled up with a book on a sofa in the living room of the Burrow, sighed and reluctantly stood. "Yes, Mum," he called.

"Oh, and if there are any ripe green beans, could you pick them off the line? Also let me know if the pumpkins are flowering yet! And the cucumbers, wait, did I plant cucumbers—?" Her voice chased Percy out the door and into the twilit garden. The air was a bit humid for mid-June, and there were swarms of gnats flying around only to get gobbled up by swooping bats and dragonflies.

Percy, careful to not step on anything important, gingerly made his way to the herb garden and plucked a few leaves of basil, inhaling their fresh scent and smiling to himself. Swiping some bugs away from his face, he checked the rest of the garden for the other plants his mum had requested, taking notes in his mind. He straightened his glasses and was about to enter the house when he heard several 'cracks' and nearly barreled into Harry and Ron, who were racing around the corner from the back lawn.

"I think we made it," Harry panted and Ron agreed as they drew up to a halt in front of Percy. Harry's eyes grew wide and he glanced back at Ron, who shook his head.

"It's fine. He already knows," Ron said.

Percy pursed his lips. "I can't keep covering for you, Ron. The family should know about your 'secret missions'."

"I don't want Mum to worry," Ron said, avoiding Percy's stern gaze. "You know how she gets. She's worried enough about everything else."

"It's wrong to keep her in the dark. Especially when things could get very dangerous." Percy eyed Harry pointedly and he had the grace to look ashamed.

"I think…Percy might be right, mate," Harry said. "I think your mum should know."

"You know how she feels about Auror business," Ron grumbled. "She already hates that you do it," he added, indicating Harry. "No offense."

"I know," Harry sighed, "But just…tell her it's really important. That the department really needs trained wizards right now and that you're highly qualified—"

"I can't. Not yet," Ron interrupted. "Promise you won't say anything." He stared hard at Harry and then at Percy. "Not until this mission's over."

Harry relented with another sigh and Percy nodded stiffly.

"Alright. But I really wish you'd talk to George about the shop. I'm sure he would hire you," Percy said as they went into the house.

"I know he would. I just…want to see what happens," Ron muttered quietly as Ginny greeted them.

"You're back!" she said, smiling as she ran to Harry and kissed him on the lips. Ron and Percy exchanged uncomfortable looks. Harry looked dazed when – as Percy felt like hours had passed – they _finally _pulled apart. "I didn't think you would make it to dinner this week," Ginny continued. "Are those pretend Death Eaters still giving you trouble?"

Percy and Ron followed the couple into the kitchen, where their mum had just finished setting up the table with a delicious feast of ham, potatoes, cornbread, and fresh vegetables in a creamy tomato sauce. Percy handed her the leaves of basil and she shredded them and sprinkled them over the vegetables with a triumphant clap.

"Oh, Harry dear! Goodness, we hardly see you anymore!" Molly exclaimed after she looked up. She bustled over to him and squeezed him tight. "How is Grimmauld Place holding up? Need help with any more cleaning spells?"

Harry appeared embarrassed by her attention. "No, thank you, Mrs. Weasley. Kreacher's doing fine with the cleaning. I actually haven't been there in a little while so it probably looks much better now."

Molly frowned. "The Aurors have kept you busy, haven't they?"

Harry shot Ron a look and then stared at the floor. "Yeah, well, the Ministry's just sent us after some rogue Dementors so—"

"Dementors?" Molly repeated as she sank into her seat, "Oh, Ginny, would you mind calling your father and your brother? I think they're upstairs."

Ginny looked like she wanted to hear more about the Dementor situation, but she obeyed her mother anyways. A few minutes later, the rest of the family was gathered at the table and helping themselves to food, all talk of Dementors forgotten.

"You've really outdone yourself, dear," Arthur said as he planted a kiss on Molly's forehead.

She blushed. "Oh Arthur!" She affectionately swatted him away with a girlish giggle. "It's just so nice to have the family together for dinner." She beamed at the table, her gaze settling longest on George. "Shame Bill and Fleur couldn't come," she added.

"I'm sure they're just _busy_," George said, grinning wickedly. He nodded at Ginny and Harry. "You two wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?"

Harry was horrified as Ginny flushed fiercely.

"That's none of your business!" she declared hotly.

"Or maybe I should ask dear Ronniekins. Hermione's coming over later, isn't she?" George said, winking suggestively.

"Sod off, git," Ron snapped.

"Language!" Molly cut in.

"Now, now, George, there's no need for that," Arthur said.

"He's just jealous," Ginny said.

"Wanker," Ron said under his breath, sharing a grin with Harry.

"Ron," Arthur warned, giving him the eye, though there was a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Well, what can I say as the only bachelor at this table?" George said, gulping down some potatoes. "I mean, even Percy has a girlfriend." He turned to his older brother. "You're going on what, your third date?"

Percy shifted awkwardly, glaring at George. "Yes, well, Audrey and I are going to dinner tomorrow night. Are you happy now?"

"That sounds lovely, dear," Molly said. "Where are you going? I've always enjoyed the Doxy Diner. It's up in…what's it, Kent?"

"No, it's in Berkshire," Arthur corrected her. "Percy, have you tried Ramoran in West Sussex? Fantastic beef cutlet, let me tell you!"

"Oh, oh, that place you took me once a long time ago," Molly started. "Arthur, what was it called? Something…luncheon?"

"Leprechaun Luncheon? We had the Lucky Linguini Platter and that night we…" Arthur flushed and broke off as the rest of the table made gagging noises. The Weasley children, plus Harry, exchanged disturbed looks.

"Sounds like the perfect place," George said, wrinkling his nose.

Percy shook his head to clear his mind of impure thoughts. "Erm, we're actually going to The Golden Snidget."

"The Golden Snidget? Wow, that's classy," Ginny said, impressed.

Suddenly there came a sound from outside, and Hermione burst in the door. Percy watched as Ron's face morphed into pure happiness. He stood up and she ran into his arms, hugging him tightly and nearly knocking his chair over backwards.

"I missed you," came her muffled voice as they pulled away, Ron grinning as he coughed her bushy hair out of his mouth.

"I missed you, too," he said. It was only then that they finally realized everyone was staring at them.

"Hello," Hermione said in embarrassment. "Sorry to interrupt."

"Not a problem, come sit and have some food!" Molly invited, and soon the table was bubbling with conversation about Hogwarts and N.E.W.T.s and jobs and all sorts of other things. Percy glanced at George, who was grinning like everyone else, but he could tell that there was sadness lurking just under the surface. It felt…normal, aside from that, though he supposed that was the best it was going to get. He turned back to his meal and dug in, letting the peace and comfort of a loving family and delicious food settle deep into the very fibers of his being.

* * *

><p>Percy inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly as he walked down the sidewalk to meet Audrey at The Golden Snidget. He didn't know why he was so nervous. It was his third date with her, and things had been going well so far. With all of his careful planning he couldn't imagine it getting any worse, unless he made a mistake and she didn't like the new him and had to end their relationship and cut him out of her life because she didn't love him anymore even though he wanted to marry her —<p>

"Merlin, it's only your third date. And Audrey is not…_her_," he told himself adamantly. He tried but failed to avoid imagining that line on the checklist, the piercing letters that read **4. Owl Penelope.** He mentally cursed George for tactlessly writing that down, even though he knew George was just trying to help… Besides, the checklist was more of a guideline, right? Not a binding agreement?

Percy sighed. He had tried to make that excuse before, and that had gone over well… He shook his head and straightened his dress robes, hoping everything was in place. He had carefully pressed and ironed them with magic, and had personally removed the clumps of fuzz that clung to them to make sure they were immaculate. He wouldn't let drab dress robes ruin his newest relationship.

As he approached the restaurant entrance, which appeared as a rundown shack at the end of an alley to Muggles, he saw Audrey waiting in front, shuffling from foot to foot in what he assumed was boredom. Percy was horrified – he had made sure to get there twenty-five minutes before their reservation time so that she wouldn't have to wait, but here he was, clearly late! That was terribly rude of him, and made an awful impression on his manners!

Or was he over-thinking things again?

"Audrey!" he called as he jogged over, careful not to go too fast or he would start to sweat unpleasantly.

"Percy!" she said, waving. She was wearing a yellow floral dress with a brown sweater and high heels. Pearls were hung around her neck and in her ears, and as she greeted him with a hug, he inhaled her sweet perfume and it made him wonder if he had put on enough cologne.

"You look…beautiful," he said as they pulled apart. He caught himself staring and cleared his throat. "You always do."

Audrey shrugged to hide her blush. "Well, thank you. You look handsome." Her eyes roamed over him and he shivered.

"Erm, shall we?" he asked, holding out his arm.

"Gladly," she said, accepting it. Together they headed toward the dilapidated shack. Right above the dark entrance of the door was what looked like a wreath, but which was actually a nest to commemorate the endangered bird the restaurant was named for. As they passed underneath it, Percy was shocked to hear squawking from inside his robes. Stepping back with a curious Audrey in tow, he removed a glowing red glass bird from the inner pockets of his robes. The thing was animated, and was flapping its transparent, rotational wings in agitation.

"What is that?" she asked.

Percy held it up on his palm and steered them away from the door. Instantly, the bird stopped moving and began to glow yellow. He put it back in his pocket.

"It's our reservation," Percy said. "I suppose we're too early."

"I'm sorry," Audrey said. "I came too soon. I was just excited to dress up for once. Living at home with my dad…there's not too many occasions for fancy evening clothes."

"No, it's not your fault. I came early, too. I guess I was just happy to have plans for the evening. Especially…plans with you."

Audrey blushed again. "You are such a romantic, you know that?"

"I…had _hoped_, but…is that a good thing?"

She gave him a knowing look. "And cheeky, too! Come on, let's wait on that bench over there."

They sat on a wooden bench about half a block from the restaurant. It was on the outside fence of a children's park that was overgrown and rusty. Audrey held Percy's arm as they sat close to each other.

"I wish there was slightly better scenery here," Percy said, frowning at the boarded-up windows, flickering streetlights, and rubbish strewn about. They weren't the only ones admiring the view – other couples were waiting in various places along the road, talking quietly amongst themselves in classy dress robes.

"Of course the owners of the fanciest restaurant in Britain would set up here, in the worst part of Muggle London," Audrey said. "No wonder I got so many stares from Muggles when I turned to come down here!"

Percy chuckled. "So, how are you since I saw you last?"

"Good. You? How's your family doing?"

"Rather excellent, actually. I had dinner with them all last night, er, well, most of them. I've not seen my mum so happy in quite some time."

"Was Ron there?" she asked. "Or was he secretly out doing missions with Harry again?"

Percy sighed. "He was there. They snuck in the back and I covered for him again. I can understand what he's doing – he reminds me of me, you know – and I realize he's just trying to find the right fit for him in the world. I just don't see how being a part-time Auror is going to help him make that decision."

"Well, he _is_ dating Hermione now, right? He's got to prove himself to her," Audrey said.

Percy nodded. "That's probably the main reason for his indecision. I just wish he would help George with the shop. It would be so much easier and safer."

"I'm sure he'll get around to it. Though I'm glad to hear George is doing well."

"Yes, definitely. He's much better. Although I still see him looking sad every once in a while."

"He may never really get over it," Audrey said gently.

"No, I know," he said quietly. "It was just odd last night because he seemed to get sad right after Hermione appeared and Ron was with her. We were talking about couples and… Now I'm wondering if I should set him up with someone."

"As in a girlfriend?" Audrey asked.

"Yes. Why are you so surprised?"

She shrugged. "I dunno, but it sounds to me like he just misses being with someone. Not a girlfriend exactly, but…his twin. It's similar to being in a relationship, you know, always having someone there."

"Hmm," Percy agreed. "I see what you mean." He gazed down at her fondly. "You are remarkably good at reading people."

"Oh, gosh, no!" Audrey said, embarrassed by the compliment. "I just…make these huge assumptions and pretend I know what I'm talking about!"

"But you were right about me," Percy insisted.

Audrey sat forward and gazed up at him. "I was just lucky."

Staring at each other, they leaned forward to kiss, slow and gentle, before they jumped apart at the sound of squawking.

"Not that thing again!" Audrey laughed.

Percy removed the bird from his pocket. It was now glowing blue as it hovered in the air, as if to lead them back.

"Guess it's time to go in," Percy said. They linked arms and followed the bird into the restaurant.

* * *

><p>After their sumptuous meal at The Golden Snidget, Percy brought Audrey to Diagon Alley for some ice cream from Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Following that, they went for a stroll in the meadows outside of the Burrow. It was a bit chilly under the emerging stars, but Percy draped his coat over Audrey's shoulders and they leaned into each other, holding hands.<p>

"I had a really lovely evening," Audrey said.

"Me, too," he agreed.

There were a few moments of silence, then Audrey spoke again.

"It's beautiful here. I love watching the stars come out. It's one thing I can't stand about cities."

"I don't mind cities, actually. But I agree – the stars are quite lovely here."

Audrey sighed happily. "If only I didn't have to work and could just stay out here forever. It's going to get so hectic at the Ministry."

"At least you have Hermione to help," Percy said, earning him a playful nudge from Audrey.

"Still jealous that I sent her the opening before you did, eh?"

"No. She was just very talented at law enforcement. I'm sure she will be equally skilled at regulating magical creatures."

Audrey laughed. "Are you sure you never had a crush on her?"

"She's my brother's girlfriend! Of course not! I admire her work ethic, that's all."

"And _my_ work ethic?"

They stopped and Percy stared down at her. He could just make out her coy expression.

"If I remember correctly, I was very impressed." He held onto the last syllable as he lowered his head to kiss her. They embraced, growing more passionate with each minute, until a sudden scream made them break apart.

"What was that?" Audrey asked, her eyes wide. "It sounded like a man."

Percy frowned. In the distance he could make out the points of light that shone from the Burrow, and his heart began to beat faster as the scream came again.

"Percy, what's wrong? What's happening?"

"I don't know."

"Could it be one of your brothers? Or your father?" she asked.

"It could be," he breathed, feeling cold.

"Then we've got to help," she said, and suddenly he was being pulled along behind her as they ran to where the sound last came from. As they approached, the air grew frosty, and his breath began to puff into clouds. Through Audrey's hand he felt her start to shiver, and they stared in horror at what was before them.

Dementors. There were two of them, closing in on the screaming man on the ground before getting distracted and glancing up at him and Audrey, the shadows within their hoods darker than the night. Percy fumbled for his wand but he could already feel the effects of their dark magic draining him. He could hear himself yelling and he didn't know if it was in his head or out loud, and then there was Fred in the corridor, grinning.

"_You're joking, Perce! You actually _are_ joking... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were –_"

Then came the sound of an explosion, or was that just someone crying? He felt someone's hand in his own and squeezed for all it was worth. His other fist closed over the wood of his wand.

"Expecto…" he started, but Fred was lying on the ground, not moving, his eyes fixed on Percy. "Expecto…" Fred couldn't be dead, he had to shake him because Fred was just joking. There was no way for him to be gone, not when Percy should've been the one protecting him. No, Percy should've been the one who died. He had left the family, abandoned them. He looked into his hands and saw the letter that explained that his father had been attacked and was in the hospital, and that Ron was poisoned, and that Bill and Fleur were getting married, but he just crumpled it up and threw it away.

"Jake, no, don't! Please don't do this!" sobbed a voice beside him.

Then there was a blinding light in the image of a stag and a Jack Russell terrier, and Percy blinked to find himself on his knees, staring at the ground, shaking.

"Percy, are you alright? Ron, is George okay?" came a familiar voice.

"Yeah, he's up. What about Percy? And…Audrey?"

"I'm…alright," said Audrey's voice, though it was small and trembled when she spoke.

"Percy? Can you hear me?"

Percy looked up into Harry's face and let out a choked breath.

"I…I'm…fine. Audrey?"

In the light cast by their wands, he could that she was pale, and her face was streaked with tears. He reached out and clasped her hands as there was shouting and he heard his parents and Ginny running over from the house. Glancing past her, he saw George, equally shaken, hunched over on the ground, his head in his hands.

"It made me think of Jake. And you thought of Fred," Audrey said tremulously, reaching up and stroking his cheek. He leaned into her touch and nodded. Together, with his parents' help, they were paraded into the Burrow and force-fed Molly's freshly made chocolate and what was left in the cabinet of the Honeydukes chocolate from the first anniversary of Voldemort's defeat. They were seated in the living room – Percy, Audrey, George, Ron, Harry, Ginny, and his parents – munching on chocolate and regaining some color to their faces. Harry had just had to reveal Ron's secret in order to explain why they got there so fast and were prepared to fight Dementors.

Molly just shook her head. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you were helping Harry!" She offered them another plate. "You can tell me anything, dear! Anything at all!"

"I didn't want to worry you, Mum," Ron said, but she was too riled up to listen.

"And George, what were you doing wandering around outside at this time of night? Percy I can excuse, but you didn't tell anyone where you were going!"

"It's not like I haven't been taking walks these past few weeks!" George said. "I don't need any more chocolate. I'm fine. Stop treating me like I'm going to break or something!" George stood up in a huff and stormed to his room.

"Arthur, can you talk to him?" Molly asked, and Arthur nodded tiredly.

"You're such a git for lying!" Ginny said, punching Ron in the arm.

"Oh, _I'm_ the git? You should be glad Harry and I were patrolling!"

"You have such a lovely house, Mrs. Weasley," Audrey said in a forcefully light tone.

Percy sighed and stood up. "I think we're alright now. Audrey and I are going to leave."

Molly's expression was heartbroken. "Alright. I'm so sorry we had to meet in this way, dear," she said, patting Audrey on the shoulder. "We'll have to try again sometime. Oh, Floo in the morning, Percy, just so I can make sure nothing's wrong."

Percy restrained the urge to snap and instead let out a breath. "Fine. Goodnight, Mum. Ron, Ginny, Harry. And thank you." He didn't mean for his words to come out so harshly, but he was in no mood to apologize. He and Audrey exited through the back door and he slumped against the house.

"I don't see how that could have gone worse," he muttered.

"I suppose we could have been Kissed," Audrey said. Percy let out a dry chuckle.

"I suppose." He straightened and gazed at her as she was illuminated by the inside lights. Parts of her face were shadowed and she hugged herself with her arms. "I'm sorry," he said. He swept forward to hug her and she clung to him.

"It's not your fault," she said in a muffled voice.

"At least…most of the date was fun."

She let out a laugh. "Yes. And it's certainly memorable."

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked gently.

"Honestly? I'm probably not going to sleep tonight."

"Me neither," Percy admitted as they pulled apart, still holding each other's arms.

Audrey smiled tearfully at him and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. "Have you ever heard of movies? Films?"

"You mean like the ones Muggles have?"

"Yes," she said, nodding. "My dad's obsessed with them. Want to come over and watch a few to clear our heads?"

"What about work tomorrow?" Percy asked.

"What about it?" She gazed at him and he finally relented.

"Alright. My co-workers might collapse from shock tomorrow when I don't show up."

She put her hands on her hips. "Well I think we have a good excuse."

They linked arms and Disapparated.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Aren't I the greatest at ruining dates? I hope it was believable! I had to change some of it because my first draft made it seem like this fic was a romantic comedy and it was just ridiculous! I have fun with Percy and all of his neurotic-ness, but I even knew I was going too far, haha! _

_And for those of you who are wondering, I have been researching almost everything using the Harry Potter Wiki so even though I have gotten a few facts wrong here and there, I think I'm being mostly accurate (hopefully!). I had an anonymous reviewer wondering why I hadn't mentioned Fleur being pregnant yet, and the reason is that (spoilers!) her first child IS born on the anniversary of Voldemort's defeat, but not the FIRST one. Her child is in fact at least two years younger than Teddy and is born canonically on May 2__nd__ in either 2000 or 2001. _

_Please let me know if you notice any other glaring errors or if you have any suggestions for this fic! I appreciate your reviews! :) _


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Huzzah! I have updated at last! I am SO, SO SORRY for the awfully long hiatus! I almost gave up on this story, but I've been wanting to write something simple and fun/angsty lately, so here I am, returning to these beloved characters! I hope you enjoy this new chapter, and forgive me for any inconsistencies! I actually went and reread this whole story to make sure I'm on the same page...with myself - I unfortunately lost a bunch of notes and the latest chapter I had written but not posted, so here's a different (and better) take on it!  
><em>

_Edit: I have no idea why it posted twice...it should be fixed now! :)  
><em>

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 15<span>

The week following the Dementor attack left George trembling and afraid to be alone, though he refused to admit it to anyone in fear that they would worry again. He had just started to feel good again – which was a visible relief to the family – and he would hate to force them back into the tension-riddled environment that was their life post-battle. To avoid this, he threw himself wholeheartedly into the shop, replenishing the shelves with the products he and Fred had created, working all hours of the night and sleeping in his old flat above the shop.

While working at the shop again was a wonderful distraction in many ways, his return had not been as easy or natural as he had expected. Without Fred there to back him up, or bounce ideas off of, or even to correct him when he started assembling pieces wrong, the process was incredibly lonely and occasionally counter-productive as he fumbled with designs that had been Fred's creations and thus Fred's responsibility. It got to the point where his flat, which he had hastily cleaned with a few quick spells, was once again strewn with small bits of products, including screws, nails, and all kinds of potion ingredients, all of which he had flung directly at Fred's old bed. The bed had only managed to cough up some dust in response.

As George stood at their desk, his breaths heaving and his eyes fixated on Fred's bed, the silence tormented him, and he could feel himself shaking as if the Dementors had returned to conjure up all the memories of the void, of seeing Fred's body, of feeling that ache in his chest, of almost watching Percy kill himself—

That thought drew him up short. Percy… He had been so focused on himself he hadn't even considered how his brother might've reacted to the Dementors. Surely he wasn't being foolish again? George closed his eyes, took a deep, calming breath, and exited his room to stand on the landing and survey the shop below. His friends had been in and out, helping him sort things in the back and re-arrange the displays and even add new splashes of color in furniture tucked into niches around the room, giving the shop an even stronger homey feeling that reminded George of the Burrow. He wondered if Fred would've approved these changes but quickly dashed that thought by shaking his head. What good would it do to reflect on that?

All of a sudden, there was a pounding on the door and then Ginny sprinted inside, decked out in Quidditch gear. She was a full Hogwarts graduate now that it was mid-June, though she hadn't had time to celebrate as there was something else more exciting going on for her – scouts from the Harpies had seen her fly and had recruited her for the reserve team. They started training her almost immediately, and George was about to joke that he felt privileged to be in her presence, which had become rare lately, when he saw the look on her face. He joined her halfway down the stairs and met her frantic eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Percy," was all she said, but George felt like he had been kicked in the gut. Making sure he had his wand, he followed Ginny out the shop, locked up behind him, and Side-Along Apparated with her to the hallway outside of Percy's flat. George was instantly assaulted with memories of his first time coming there after Fred's funeral, and wanted to throw up with the worry roiling in his stomach. He allowed Ginny to drag him inside after slamming open the door, and they found Percy lolling on the couch, his eyelids fluttering.

"What's going on?"

"He's bloody tanked, that's what!" Ginny said, glaring accusingly at her bespectacled brother, whose glasses were askew on his flushed face as his lips twitched into a drunken smile.

"Look 'oo's here," Percy slurred. "Georgie!" He attempted to sit up but didn't appear to have enough coordination, and instead sank back down into the couch.

"I come here to check up on him on my break because he's not been around for a few days and Mum wanted someone to make sure he was fine and he's bloody…out of his bleeding _skull_! I don't have time to clean him up like this! My arse I'm going to clean him up! I've got to go!"

"You dragged me here to be his nanny?" George said, offended. Ginny shot him a look.

"You can spare some time. You're bloody self-employed! What, would you rather me call Mum? Percy will never let me hear the end of it!"

"Gin, you're barmy. Seriously?"

"Yes, I'm serious!" She let out a breath and her face grew somber. "Look, I think…I think Percy's been hiding stuff for a while. Can you talk to him? You two seem…closer lately." She glanced at a clock hanging on the wall. "Bollocks, I'm late! I've really got to go, but I'll be back. I knew you'd understand." With that, she swept out of the flat, leaving George staring dumbly after her, his brows furrowed.

"Couldn't get Ron?" George muttered. "Probably too busy with Hermione, the git." He stared down at his brother. "Percy? You didn't have work today, did you? I think it's a weekday?" Now it was George's turn to glance at the clock. "Oh, nope. It's Saturday."

"Work?" Percy said from the couch. "Work!" He started to giggle in a distinctly non-Percy-like way that made George grimace.

"Bloody hell, Perce. You look completely off your rocker, mate." He settled into a chair next to the couch and spoke up quietly. "Nightmares? From the…Dementors?"

Percy scrunched up his face. "I hate them. I like work better. Work's nice. You know who else's nice? Audrey." He smiled and then pain contorted his features as he clutched his stomach.

"Percy?" George said, leaning forward, but his brother just moaned. George stood up. "Here, I'll make you some mint tea to settle your stomach." He went to the kitchen, put the kettle on, and opened up the cabinets to search for the tea. "Hey Perce, you got any tea?" Scanning the shelves, which he was glad to find were well-stocked, he found the tea, though there wasn't any flavored mint. Reaching up to the next shelf, he was going to rummage behind a container of oatmeal to see if any stray bags had ended up there when his hand passed right through it. His heart stopped cold for a moment as he yanked his hand back, but then he tried again and saw that the oatmeal container was just an illusion. Throwing open the other cabinet doors, he found that, though the bottom shelves contained real food – admittedly not a lot – the rest of the shelves only _looked_ full of food, but they were all illusions, enough to fool anyone.

A sinking feeling ripped through George's gut. They had all thought Percy was fine, that he was eating normally, not drinking excessively, being happy with Audrey… How much of it was a lie? Percy had always been a spectacular actor, much better than George, whose moping had captured enough of the family's attention to divert them from Percy's situation. George wanted to be sick. But Percy had been happy! He had been going on dates with Audrey! So why…?

Then George thought he knew. The loneliness. The silence. What did Percy do on his days off, when he had no plans? Sit around, rehashing past mistakes and regrets so he was driven to the bottle? George slammed his fist down on the counter. What was the _point _of the Whiskey Checklist if Percy was just going to lie? Here, George was actually _trying_ and Percy was just…unable to move forward! George felt like strangling him!

Stalking back to the couch, George saw that Percy had fallen asleep. He checked to make sure Percy was still breathing, and, relieved, slumped into the chair and dragged a hand down his face. He couldn't do this, not now! Not when he had his own problems to deal with! A thought occurred to him and he cursed.

Angelina was coming to the shop today. She hadn't fully started working for him yet, but she came more often than the others to help get it ready to be reopened, taking care of the small details like advertising, setting up meetings to discuss a potential extension into Zonko's, ordering parts and potion ingredients, and making sure the financial side was still stable enough to continue. She'd been a godsend, but she would notice George's absence. George didn't want her to get involved if she didn't have to. Hastily Apparating back to the shop, George went inside to scribble a note, which he left on the front desk for Angelina to find explaining where he was in case she needed to reach him.

Back at Percy's, he found himself in the kitchen, taking stock of what Percy actually had in terms of food. There were several cans of vegetables and soups, some moldy bananas and bread, scattered teabags, some leftover chips, a few bags of crisps, some biscuits and other snack foods, and a chunk of meat that was spoiled, if the smell wafting from the refrigerated drawer was any indication.

George wrinkled his nose and began throwing the gross stuff into the bin, waving his wand to get rid of the stench. Meanwhile, Percy just snoozed away, snoring, as George investigated the rest of his flat. Stashed in a back compartment of his desk was more alcohol, which George promptly chucked into the bin. He scoured Percy's bedroom, no longer caring about respecting his brother's privacy, especially when he came out with more bottles of firewhiskey. He returned to the study to grab the Whiskey Checklist and uncross **3. Spill the booze unless you're willing to share**. Glancing at the Checklist, George sighed. Percy still had a lot of goals to accomplish, whereas George had already completed his. Frowning, he squinted down at **4. Owl Penelope**, which he noticed looked strange. He stared at it further, bringing the parchment up to his eye, and saw that the letters had been traced over and over until they were almost stabbing through to the back. What had he done by stupidly writing that down? What exactly was going on with Percy and Penelope?

George jumped when there came a knock at the door, and then a woman's voice floated around the corner.

"Hello? I'm sorry for coming unannounced. I was just hoping to…" She trailed off when she stepped into the flat and saw George come to stand over Percy's sleeping form in the living room.

"Audrey?" he said, vaguely recognizing the small blond woman from that horrible night he wished would leave him alone.

"Oh. Hello." Her eyes darted to Percy, and she bit her lip as she glanced back at George. "I'm sorry for intruding. I was just…"

"Worried? Join the club," George said.

Audrey gave him a sad smile. "We talked after we went back to my place after the Dementors, but then…he didn't respond to any messages I owled him."

George shook his head. "I guess he was busy. Getting sloshed. Oh. Sorry. I'm George, by the way." He stepped forward to shake hands.

"Nice to meet you properly," Audrey said, closing the door to the flat and fully coming inside. "Do you need help cleaning up?"

George held up the bin and shook it, making the glass bottles of firewhiskey rattle. "No, I think I'm all set, thanks."

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence, and George broke the tension by setting the bin down and shuffling back to the kitchen to remove the illusion spells. Audrey joined him and helped take down the spells once she realized what he was doing.

"This probably isn't your most fun date, I take it," George said as he watched Audrey's face grow sad. She abruptly lowered her wand.

"I shouldn't be here. This is creepy, isn't it?"

George shrugged. "I think it's…really nice that you're checking up on him. He cares a lot about you, you know. I can tell."

Audrey blushed. "He's very kind. I just want him to be happy."

"Feel free to join that club as well." George sighed deeply. "Welcome to the current Weasley family."

"You're still dealing with a loss. It's completely understandable."

George loosely recalled hearing her crying a name, and learning later that Audrey's brother, Jake, had been killed by Death Eaters.

"I'm sorry about your brother," he said.

"And I'm sorry about yours."

"Thanks," George said, squeezing his eyes shut when his chest constricted suddenly. "It's been more than a year now. But it still…"

"I know."

George could understand why Percy felt so comfortable with Audrey. She was motherly, but not in the smothering way like his own mum. Audrey was bright, caring, warm, but most importantly, unlike all the shallow condolences he had received from others, she actually _understood_ what losing a brother felt like and didn't need to pretend. It was strange that she and Percy hadn't been going out for very long, and yet it felt natural that she was with him, almost like she was already a part of the family. For some reason, George had a feeling that, despite all the baggage Percy carried, Audrey seemed like the person willing to see past it, especially as a person who saw the good in others. He hoped they would be together for a while. It would really do Percy some good.

"He's lucky to have you," George said at last. He grimaced. "I mean, I don't exactly know if you have each other or if you're still just dating or whatever but—"

"It's okay, I understand," Audrey laughed. "We're still…figuring it out I guess."

"Well, good luck," George said sincerely. There was a noise from the couch as Percy stirred and then sat up, gripping his head and squinting at them.

"George?" he said, before his eyes widened. "Audrey?" He straightened and tried in vain to fix his appearance.

"I think it's too late for that, Perce," George said. He pointed at the now empty shelves in the kitchen. "Also we need to talk."

Percy stared blearily and his shoulder's slumped. He pressed his face into his hands.

"I'm such a mess," came his muffled voice. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. Those Dementors messed everyone up," George said. "Though…it's not just the Dementors, is it? I found your stashes. All of them. They're in the rubbish bin."

Audrey glanced back and forth between the brothers. "Should I leave?" she asked quietly.

But before her question was answered, Percy began crying into his hands. His shoulders shook and Audrey swiftly sat beside him, putting her arms around him.

"What's wrong with me? Why can't I just…stay happy? Sometimes it gets so bad I can't…I can't stand it! I just hate…"

George felt his heart breaking at his brother's pain and obvious self-loathing, but he didn't know what to say.

Audrey was gently rubbing his back, shushing him.

"I'm so sorry. You shouldn't be with me. I'm too…messed up," Percy said into her shoulder.

"No, I want to be with you. It'll be alright. We're here for you." She turned to meet George's eyes.

"Yeah, mate. You helped me out of a tight spot," George said, standing behind the couch. Percy pulled away from Audrey and miserably met both of their gazes.

"Thank you. I…I think I need help."

"It's okay," Audrey said. "There are…special kinds of healers at St. Mungo's. They just talk to you and listen. They can help. They helped me."

A spark of hopefulness appeared in Percy's distraught face. "Really?"

"Really," she said, and George felt uncomfortable as they gazed at each other. He coughed awkwardly and headed toward the door.

"So, I'm going to head back to the shop. You're going to have to apologize to Gin. And…well, I guess I'll leave you two to get going. To St. Mungo's. Right? You don't need me." At those last words, George felt a lump in his throat as he hovered in the doorway.

"Yes. Thanks, George," Percy said distractedly, standing with Audrey as they entwined their hands. "We'll…we'll talk after. I promise."

"You'd better. And not just to me. The family. Especially Mum, you know how she is."

"I will."

George smiled at them. Audrey was definitely an amazing girl. He would have to make sure Percy wasn't a prat to her, or he'd have to kick his arse.

Apparating back to the shop, he saw Angelina behind the front desk, examining the cash register.

"Oh, George," she said, glancing up at him. Her face crinkled in concern as she saw his grim expression. "Is everything alright? Is Percy—?"

"He's fine. Well, he will be. Hopefully." George couldn't bring himself to convey any emotion, as it felt like a boulder was sitting in his gut, weighing him down. Seeing Audrey and Percy together hit him hard. He remembered having someone there for him, not just to spend time with, but just to _be _there. He and Fred hadn't needed to speak to know they would die for each other. They hadn't even needed to face each other to comfort one another. Just having him there at his back, feeling his presence in the room, was enough. But it was gone now, and all that was left was empty silence.

George felt like crying, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he ignored Angelina's pleas and hurried up the steps to his flat. He knew he was being rude, but he couldn't deal with her, or anyone, right now. He realized that it wasn't because he was lonely. It was because none of the people around him was Fred.

* * *

><p>That night, as George finally crawled into bed as his eyes began to squint and he could barely keep them open, he stared at the ceiling and the walls of his room, just noticing the details of the musty old woodwork. The stained place where the roof had leaked. The corner with the spider web and dangling corpses of flies and moths. The veined crack in the upper left windowpane. It was all so vivid even in the sparse light of the candle flickering on his desk.<p>

That's when he noticed also a strange stain on the wall above Fred's bed. He sat up to look at it closer. It wasn't actually a stain – it was just a square on the wall that was darker than the rest of the room, and George realized there had been a picture there, perhaps a portrait.

A portrait.

Fred.

George lurched to his feet and began to pace. He would have to find an artist, one willing to paint a portrait for a decent price, as the renovations to the shop were costing a bit more than planned.

It was perfect. It would solve everything. Even the stupid problem he had nearly forgotten after visiting Percy.

With gears spinning in his mind, George had a hard time falling asleep. But the next morning he woke up with a purpose, and he left bright and early to find the perfect artist.

* * *

><p>"I don't think it's a good idea," Angelina said the moment after George revealed his plan. He had been trying to sneak around after returning to the shop, but as he had left no note explaining his whereabouts, Angelina had demanded where he was, clearly miffed. George had wanted to lie, but figured she might as well get in on it since the portrait was going to hang in the store.<p>

"What're you talking about? It's perfect."

"Perfect? How exactly is it going to help?" Angelina huffed, her hand on her hip as she came around the counter to confront him in the middle of the store. "Look, you asked me to start working here and I _have_ been working. But the shop's been clean since your birthday _two months ago_ and it's still not open yet! People are starting to think the 'Opening Soon' sign is really just a joke!"

George glared at her. "Oh, and you think I've just been dallying around, twiddling my thumbs? I've been working, too! What do you think I've been doing?"

"How am I supposed to know? You don't let me help you or even see what you're working on! Honestly, how long does it take for you to make more merchandise? You two invented everything! You should know what you're doing by now!"

George's face darkened as his voice lashed out curtly. "That's just it. The _two_ of us. We worked together, but we also had our own designs. Some of Fred's are bestsellers. And I don't know how to make them exactly."

Angelina softened slightly. "You didn't take notes?" She rolled her eyes when George shook his head. "Did Hogwarts teach you nothing? Oh wait…" She trailed off with a wry grin and George matched her expression, though he jokingly grimaced.

"You sound like Hermione."

"Oh. Well. At least she's actually making money right now. At the _Ministry_."

George waved his hand dismissively. "We'll make plenty. Just as soon as I put a loan down on the portrait."

"A loan? Bloody hell, how much does it cost?"

He shrugged. "Enough. I mean, it _is_ Oliver Cartwright."

"Cartwright?" she repeated. "You couldn't find anyone less…well-known?"

"Only the best for dear Freddie," George said in a sing-song voice.

Angelina frowned. "George, I really don't think—"

"I've already heard your opinion, thanks," he snapped. "I'm doing it. You're complaining about the shop not being ready? Well, this'll help. Fred will be able to help me remember."

"But…you _know _portraits don't always remember everything…"

"He'll remember," George said stiffly.

Angelina sighed. "What is this really about? You've been in a rut since the Dementors. You're not thinking of…going back _there_ are you?" she finished in a voice no more than a whisper.

Silence hung in the air as George swallowed heavily.

"No. I'm fine. I just…want to have him around."

"But it's not going to be the same. You've changed. We've all changed. But he…"

"I don't care. I need to…to remember what it was like," he said softly.

Angelina approached him, her eyes concerned. "Why? Won't that make it worse?"

George stared fixedly at the ground. "I need to remember so I can…so I can cast a Patronus."

Angelina drew up short. "What?"

George slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers. "The other night with the Dementors. I tried to do the Patronus as Harry had taught us. But…I couldn't. I used the same memory that worked before, but it wasn't strong enough. I've tried every happy memory I can think of, but…nothing happens."

"Oh George," Angelina sighed, quickly hugging him.

Dejected, he refused to meet her eyes as he held up his wand. "Maybe it's broken. Or maybe it's just me." As Angelina pulled back, he added, "Sorry about last night, by the way. I just didn't feel like talking to anyone. Bad day."

"Percy was bad off?" she guessed.

George nodded. "Yeah. We'll probably have a family meeting tonight to discuss it."

"That's probably what this note says," she said, retrieving a folded piece of paper. "It came for you not too long ago."

He unfolded it and read it, nodded. "Yep. Fantastic. I guess I'll have to put on my happy face for later."

Angelina crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, come off it. Don't do that."

"Why not? I'm sick of everyone looking at me like…like you're looking at me right now!"

"So I guess I just won't look at you then?"

George scoffed. "Yes, thanks. That'd be great."

"Sod off, you ungrateful git! Everyone's just worried about you!"

He threw up his hands. "I know, I bleedin' know! Everyone keeps telling me!"

Angelina smirked. "Sounds like you need a break."

George groaned dramatically. "Please don't tell me you want to practice Quidditch again, because you nearly killed me. Several times."

"Oh I know." She winked at him. "I was talking about a night at the pub. MacNally's, Friday night. Apparently Oliver and Alicia have news."

"And I wasn't invited yet…because?"

"Because they haven't invited anyone yet! I just heard from Katie that they're planning it. You in?"

"Am I in to spend money I don't have to get bladdered? Absolutely. Sign me up."

* * *

><p>Their evening at MacNally's came sooner than George had expected. The week had flown by, what with his preparations for Fred's portrait, and dealing with the family drama named Percy. His older brother had brought Audrey for support when he announced that he was going to start seeing a Specialist at St. Mungo's, a support he had needed when their mum burst into tears. Everyone then proceeded to get worked up when they realized Percy had so cleverly deceived them, and only Ginny seemed to have been the one who seriously suspected something, though they had all been afraid to hope. With all of that going on, George had decided not to tell them about the portrait. Angelina of course disagreed, rather strongly, though George figured it would save them the trouble of having to dredge up their own once-happy, now-painful memories into a Pensieve as Cartwright required. George didn't know the exact spells or potions the artist would use, but George wanted the man to paint Fred exactly as he was, and who knew him better than his own twin? Angelina called him selfish, and he didn't deny it. Hey, it was <em>his<em> money, _his_ shop, _his_ life. He could do what he wanted with it! Especially resurrect his twin as a sentient portrait. It was his best idea yet.

After spending the week reliving some of his best memories, yet still failing to produce a Patronus, George was absolutely ready to get sloshed at the pub, and when he remembered that the event was later that evening, he found himself excited. What could be better than spending time with his mates, drinking booze?

As he had officially received his invitation from Alicia, he respected her wishes and managed to dress himself up a little more than usual. His endless hours in the flat, tinkering away with their products, had made him stop caring about hygiene and he felt strange stepping into the shower to get clean. His clothes were even nice, and not wrinkled since he hadn't slept in them. What a concept.

Stepping out of the shop, he ran into Angelina, who was wearing a low-cut dress and heels. George lifted his eyebrows.

"Well, don't you look tidy tonight," he said, earning him a punch on his arm.

"Twat! At least I decided to look decent."

George feigned outrage. "And I don't look decent enough for your tastes, Miss Johnson?"

Angelina paused on the pavement and mockingly appraised him. "Oh, I see you got dressed up in your nicest rags, and, gasp! Did you shower?"

"Come on, I haven't been that much of a bum!"

Now it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. "Uh huh. Have you seen yourself lately?"

"I looked in the mirror tonight, and I liked what I saw."

Angelina snorted and hooked her arm through George's. "Shall we?"

The pub was loud and alive when they arrived, crawling with people and blaring Wizard Rock. The music was terrible and pounding, and they were jostled through the writhing crowd, but they found their mates at a back booth, all dressed up more formally than normal. Alicia and Katie were chatting and laughing, Lee was face down on the table, and Oliver was scanning the other patrons, his eyes pausing on even the smallest Quidditch paraphernalia as if gauging his potential enemies. He was the first to notice them arrive, and waved them over when he spotted them. George and Angelina scooted into the booth and George grinned down at Lee.

"Pissed already, mate?" he yelled over the din.

Lee just shook his head wearily, his dredlocks moving as if on their own to completely conceal his face. "No. Just tired," came his muffled voice.

"Lee's been busy with his business," Oliver filled in, pouring them some pints from a pitcher on the table. He handed them their beers and George sipped heartily.

"Unlike some people," Katie said, elbowing George on her right. He grunted and elbowed her back.

"Oi, I'm working on it!"

"After all the effort we went through to get that place cleaned up!" she grinned.

"You should've seen the mess!" Oliver agreed.

Lee at last lifted his head to add, "And guess who was the lucky one who got to clean up the Death Eater blood?"

"You're taking the piss!" George yelled, holding his pint up and nearly sloshing it onto the table.

Lee frowned. "Watch it! But yeah." His face dissolved into a grin. "We're taking the piss. No Death Eater blood. Though there was some mysterious other liquid…"

"Ugh!" Alicia cut in. "Let's not talk about mysterious liquids! We're all here now!"

"Yeah, and your news?" Angelina demanded.

"Well," Alicia started, glancing at Oliver beside her, "Oliver and I have decided to get married."

Katie shrieked and the rest of the table all bellowed their congratulations and flailed excitedly as Alicia's face lit up.

"Decided? Mutually? Oliver, you tosser, you didn't ask?" George said, amused.

"I asked!" Oliver retorted. "But we discussed it first."

"Discussed it?" Katie snorted. "What's there to discuss?"

"Probably how Quidditch will play into their marriage," Lee said, and they all broke out into laughter.

"Lovely threesome, that," Angelina added, grinning wickedly as Alicia tried and failed to glare at her.

"Why did we even invite you?" she demanded, though she couldn't keep the smile off her face.

"So, does that mean you're going domestic on us? Buying a house or something?" George asked.

Oliver shrugged. "In the future, probably. Not yet. We've still got the flat."

"And you're still just a reserve on Puddlemere United," Lee commented.

Oliver's eyes blazed. "Don't you dare! Puddlemere United is a proud team—"

"Oh now you've done it!" Katie said.

"—with a long history of success and teamwork and victory—"

"Aren't success and victory the same thing?" Angelina said.

"—and tradition and honor and glory—"

Lee exclaimed. "He's still going? I need more beer for this!" He grabbed his pint and downed a large gulp, ending with a belch.

"I second that," Angelina said as they challenged each other to a drinking match.

Alicia was meanwhile patting Oliver on the arm. "That's enough love! For Merlin's sake, that's enough! We know you love Quidditch!" She gave Lee the sour eye. "Don't you get him riled up!"

"Too late for that!" Lee said with beer dribbling down his chin.

Katie was laughing hysterically and George just smirked.

"How much did you all drink before we got here?"

"A pitcher," Katie said, giggling again.

"Well, it's a sore subject," Oliver said, his face laughably grim. "I can't help that I'm on the reserves of the greatest team that's ever played."

"So soon to forget your Gryffindor pride?" George joked.

Oliver faced him with a serious expression. "Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"What does that even _mean_?" Lee demanded.

"Well, at least you made the team," Angelina muttered darkly, but George appeared to be the only one who heard it. He glanced at her as she threw her head back and swallowed the rest of her pint. She hastily poured another and began gulping it down. Pausing halfway through, she wiped her mouth and demanded, "Is beer all we've got? Can't we get anything harder?"

"Not unless you want to pay!" Alicia said. "Our cheap beer not good enough?"

Angelina shrugged. "Oh it's good enough, I guess. I'll just need lots more."

"George, I heard about Ginny getting in with the Harpies. Tell her congrats for me," Oliver slurred.

"Yes, that's amazing!" Katie agreed. "Right out of Hogwarts!"

"An excellent flyer. Glad she was on my team," Oliver continued, hiccupping.

"Yeah, she's great. We're all proud of her," George said, though he noticed Angelina sulking next to him and decided to do her a kindness for once. "So when's the wedding then?"

The rest of the night was a blur, full of drunken laughter, deafening noise, scorching heat, and burning throats. They stumbled out of the pub hours later after chipping in to pay their tab, though the bartender was a friend of theirs and gave them a discount, especially since it was essentially Alicia's and Oliver's engagement party. They had learned some details of the wedding, though it was still in the bare planning stages, particularly since Oliver hadn't even told all of his family yet.

Apparating to the shop alone, George fumbled with the door and somehow dragged himself up the stairs to collapse into his bed, not bothering to remove his shoes. He fell almost immediately into a satisfied sleep, immensely pleased with how the night had gone, and looking forward to the next day when Fred's portrait would be unveiled.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So much dialogue! 0.o I didn't know I had it in me! _

_Anyways, thanks for being so patient, loves! And I don't plan on going on another hiatus anytime soon. I WILL FINISH THIS BEFORE I DO. I promise to you, here and now! I've got some great scenes to look forward to, and as always, my lovely Percy and George to mess with! ;)  
><em>


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Percy leaned back in his desk chair, glaring at the walls of his study. He knew every detail by now, as he had been sitting there trying not to go insane for a few hours. It was his latest assignment, given by his healer, a Mind Specialist named Iwan. Audrey had highly recommended him and though Percy had only been seeing him for a few weeks, he could see that the man was skilled at what he did. Although that did little to dissuade Percy from hating the man with a passion as he tried to 'be at peace with himself.'

Okay, perhaps Iwan hadn't worded it like that, but that's what it felt like. The Mind Specialist had suggested that Percy take a few days off from work to really be alone with himself and sort through his feelings. Iwan knew that that was incredibly difficult for Percy to do, as their sessions made it quite clear that Percy's self-loathing was at a perilously high level. The idea was good, and the intentions great, but without a drop of alcohol in his entire flat thanks to George, Percy knew that the actual experience of it was going to kill him. He missed work, he missed keeping busy. Iwan had given him a list of ways to not go crazy, including cleaning his flat, doing some laundry, writing some letters, etc. Percy had already spent one day cleaning everything with various spells and even some manual labor, and when he reluctantly woke up that morning, he ran his fingers over every surface, praying to find dust.

But he was out of luck. Percy started drafting letters before realizing he had no one to write to. Everyone that he might have communicated with visited him often enough that he had nothing new to report. In fact, he found himself actually looking forward to someone's visit later that day, even though their visits, in reality inspections to physically check on him and make sure he was eating, were humiliating. They looked at him like he was going to break, and he found himself empathizing with George right after Fred died.

Speaking of which, it was amazing that so much time had already passed, and now George was finally reopening the store. The date was set for tomorrow, and Percy had gone to visit a few times though it had been a bit too chaotic inside for Angelina to let him in. He wondered how George was doing, and if Ron would help him more like he said he would. Percy had really thought by now that Ron would stop fooling around with Harry and this Auror business, and he knew the rest of the family felt the same. With Hermione done with Hogwarts and working steadily as an intern at the recovering Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Percy could imagine that she held the same opinion of Ron's career choice, though he supposed she was used to it by now, having run with Harry and Ron since they were eleven. Percy knew Ron and Harry were both very accomplished when it came to facing dark wizards, but Percy just didn't feel that Ron fit the part. Harry had chosen his path as it had chosen him, and Ron had just…tagged along.

"Percy? Hello?" called a voice, and Percy jumped. Was it his imagination, or was Ron really there? Hurrying to the living room, he saw Ron's face in the fireplace and knelt to speak with him.

"Ron. Are you alright?"

"Oh, hey Perce. I was just wondering if you…erm…were doing anything?"

Percy didn't hesitate. "Absolutely not."

Ron smirked. "Going stir-crazy? You sure that crackpot knows what he's on about, not letting _you_ work?"

"I haven't a clue. What can I help you with?"

"I'm at the shop, actually. Angelina owled me about George."

Percy's brows furrowed. "What about George?"

"He hasn't come out of his room in…well, a few weeks I guess."

"Then who's the one setting up shop? Aren't they opening tomorrow?"

Percy could somehow tell Ron was shrugging through his facial expression.

"Lee and Angelina mostly. I just got here to see what I could do. Mind joining us?"

Percy blinked. "You actually want _me_ to help you set up a joke shop?"

"And talk to George," Ron said, though he was grinning. "I figured you could use something to do. Trust me when I say I know how it is being stuck in one place for a long time with nothing to do." His face darkened for a moment before he forced a smile. "So come on over if you want. Or are you not allowed?"

This time, Percy smirked. "Iwan's instructions were only meant to be taken as suggestions. I can do what I want."

"Finally you've got some balls. See you soon, then?"

"That's filthy, Ronald. But yes. I'll be with you shortly."

Ron's face disappeared and Percy ran to grab his wand from his nightstand, a skip in his step. Something to do at last! Though…he hoped George was alright. Percy locked his door and Apparated with a 'pop!'

Entering Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was not as bad as Percy had expected. Though he had to duck as strange flying objects passed over his head, and several of the displays made rude comments about him, it looked like the place was in order…as much as it could be. Percy had only seen it from afar when both twins owned it, before the last battle, but he imagined it had looked the same. It certainly felt like Fred and George, with all the colors and whimsical signs and utterly disturbing products. Percy wondered if he should have expected a trap, and was relieved when Ron waved him over to the register where he and Angelina were chatting.

"Miss Johnson," Percy greeted her, noting her somewhat frazzled expression.

She just rolled her eyes. "You're not Head Boy anymore. You can call me Angelina."

"Fair enough," Percy said after a moment's thought. "Are you quite well? You seem a bit…?"

"Nutty?" She let out a short laugh. "Yeah, well, maybe that's because I've been doing all the grunt work around here while _he's_ been doing Merlin knows what up there!" she said, jerking her thumb at the flight of stairs leading to George's flat.

"So what's wrong with him?" Ron asked.

"Beats me. He put a Silencing Charm on the room. He comes out every once in a while for food or to judge what I'm doing with _his_ store, but other than that…" She threw up her hands and shook her head, growing downcast. "I knew it was a bad idea," she added quietly.

"What was a bad idea?" Percy asked.

Angelina met his and Ron's eyes. "George ordered a portrait of Fred. It's hanging up there now."

Ron's eyes widened. "Wait. A portrait? Of Fred?"

"Yeah. He didn't want anyone else to know. And he won't even let me see it, the selfish bastard! Once you get him out, allow me to share my displeasure." She held up her fists with a nasty smile before it dropped. "I would do it myself but…I thought it might be better coming from family."

Ron huffed. "Yeah. Bloody git!" He turned to race up and to the landing, pounding on the door.

Percy stared after him, his mind calculating the worst scenarios. "What did George look like when you did see him?"

"Fine, I guess. Just…preoccupied," Angelina said. She clenched her fists. "Honestly, he's more trouble than he's worth!"

"Then why are you helping him?" Percy asked.

Angelina's gaze leveled with his. "Because he's my friend. And I've got nothing better to do. The lucky git. I better get paid well for putting up with this."

Percy stifled a grin and then hurried up the stairs after Ron, who was banging on the door, bellowing to be let in.

"George! Open up!" Ron yelled.

"Did you try _Alohomora_?" Percy asked.

"Erm…"

"Right, then. Step back." Percy aimed his wand and spoke the Unlocking Spell. The door clanked and then opened a crack. The Silencing Charm appeared to break with the door opening, and they heard crashing from within that made them cringe. Flinging open the door, Percy followed Ron as they charged into George's flat. The first thing they saw was that the area was strewn with scraps of paper, bits and pieces of products, and empty jars and pouches of potion ingredients. George was slumped over at his desk, and blearily looked over at them.

"Oh. It's you," he said.

"It's us? What do you mean by that?" Ron demanded, but was cut short from asking anything else when another voice made him halt in place.

"Ickle Ronniekins! And…the pompous prat. How dare he show his face around here? Family-disowning moron!"

Percy followed Ron's gaze as it traveled up to the portrait hanging over what used to be Fred's bed, but which was now a receptacle for all kinds of junk.

"Fred?" Ron squeaked.

"And here I thought you had grown up. Where's your big, manly voice?" the portrait of Fred said. Fred looked like a slightly younger version of the current George, and he was surrounded by a backdrop of the shop before it was destroyed. The portrait grinned. "You look shocked to see me, kind of like that face you made after I gave you that Acid Pop when we were kids. Remember that, George? He ran to Mum with a hole in his tongue! Priceless!"

"Yeah. That was great," George said with no enthusiasm, not even lifting his head off the desk.

"And the git is here, too," Fred continued, staring at Percy, who was struck speechless. "Bloody idiot, leaving the family. Still trust the Ministry over Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore's dead," came George's tired voice.

"He is?" Fred repeated. "Oh. Wait, no, I remember that… Too much candy? The man had an addiction." He laughed at his own joke.

"I'm being serious," George said, finally raising his head to stare at the portrait.

"No, you know who's serious? Sirius Black. Apparently he was a Marauder. Would've liked to know that before he bit it. Am I right, George?"

Percy dragged his eyes away from the portrait and scrutinized his brother, who looked exhausted.

"George, are you alright?"

"Don't talk to him, Ministry-loving, spectacled, buggy-eyed—"

"Oh shut it!" George interrupted, waving his wand and crying "_Silencio_!"

Fred's portrait gulped as a band covered his mouth. He began to gesture indignantly, but George turned his back to him as he stood up.

"Ignore him."

"Oh George," Percy sighed, trying not to let Fred's insults bother him.

"What were you thinking?" Ron demanded. "Who even _is_ that?" He indicated the portrait, and Fred retorted with a rather rude hand gesture.

"It's…kind of Fred."

"Kind of?"

George rolled his eyes. "Look, I don't need you two lecturing me! I needed help remembering how to make some of our products, and coming up with ideas for other ones. I've been lacking inspiration lately, since he bloody _died_. What was I supposed to do?"

"I dunno, get your friends to help? Lee owns part of this place! And Angelina's been working her arse off down there!"

Both Percy and George raised their eyebrows at Ron.

Ron glared at them. "What?"

"You just sound so…grown up all of a sudden," George said.

"Hermione's influence, most likely," Percy said and Ron growled.

"Don't gang up on _me_! Percy, we're here to stop George from being a prat!"

"Right. Priorities," Percy said. "George…"

George's shoulders slumped. "I know. I messed up. The portrait…" He sighed deeply. "I just thought it would… But he's… And I…" He covered his face with his hands and sank onto the bed. "I don't know what to do."

"How about you let me help?"

They all turned to Angelina, framed in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

"Honestly, can you be more selfish? I've been helping you this whole time! You offered me this job and now we're so close to opening, but you won't even come out to do anything! Please, just come back."

"I know. I'm sorry," George said in a small voice. "I just…I really miss him. Some days I just…don't want to wake up because I know he's… And I know it's selfish, but I can't. I don't know how to do this."

"Then let us help you," Angelina said, closing the circle around George as she stood between Ron and Percy.

When George started to shake his head, Percy spoke up, "Sometimes the first step is to admit that you need help."

George looked like he wanted to comment, but he gazed up at Percy. "I know. You're right."

Ron snorted and they all glared at him for breaking the mood.

"What?" he asked. "I'm just laughing because Fred's trying to strangle himself." He pointed and they all looked at the portrait, where Fred was making elaborate gestures to gag and choke himself to stop from getting sentimental. "You should've seen him when George said Percy was right. Thought he was actually going to do it, the way his face was turning purple."

"Can portraits even do that?" Angelina asked, and George shrugged.

"You don't know much about portraits at all, do you?" Percy said, eyeing George.

"No. Apparently not." He rolled his eyes. "He's been keeping me up all night with ideas to prank people."

Ron scoffed. "Of course he has."

"Typical Fred. I assume most of these pranks were intended for me?" Percy said.

George grinned. "Obviously."

"Well, enjoy your brother bonding session. I'm going to go make sure this place is ready for tomorrow. And you better get your arse down there!" Angelina said, glaring at George before sweeping out of the room and heading down the stairs. They all looked after her, thoughtful expressions on their faces.

"When's the last time we spent time together like this?" Percy said at last.

"Never," Ron said.

George nodded. "Yup. Never. We should get a beer sometime. Oh wait, Ron's not old enough, is he?"

Ron shoved him. "Shut up, you wanker! I'm plenty old enough to drink! I've seen and done more than you lot have."

"Right," George said skeptically.

"I have!"

"Well…have you had safe relations with a woman?" Percy blurted out, causing both his brothers to sputter.

"What?" Ron choked.

"Relations?" George repeated, his face an interesting mix between amused and disturbed.

"You know, intercour—"

"Ugh, don't say it!" Ron interrupted. "Bloody hell, Percy! Do you _know_how wrong that sounded?"

George snorted. "Is this how you think brothers talk? Or did your fancy friend Iwan tell you to ask us, the perv?"

"No!" Percy said indignantly. "I just…wanted to make sure—"

"That we're getting shagged enough?" George said, laughing. He mockingly wiped tears from his eyes. "Merlin, I can't believe you just asked that!"

Ron still looked like he wanted to throw up. "Ugh, can we stop having this conversation please?"

"Well, now I'm curious," George said, facing Ron. "Have you had some fun _relations_ with Hermione?"

Ron's ears turned beet red. "No! I mean, yeah, but, no – it's none of your business!"

George roared with laughter, causing them all to grin despite themselves. "Merlin's beard, I need to get out more if I find _that_ funny!"

"Well you've been in here for weeks, doing whatever with Fred's portrait!" Ron shot back, embarrassed.

George gasped for breath. "Yeah, well… Like I said, I thought it would help. Looks like it didn't."

"Looks like you need to go help Angelina. She's done a lot for you," Percy said.

George shot him a look. "What are you getting at? Please no more 'relations' questions! It's not like that between me and Ange. We're just friends."

"Bloody hell, Percy," Ron said, shaking his head. "Never bring this up again. Please. I'm begging you."

Percy glanced at his brothers and then at the portrait, where Fred looked like he was having a seizure he was laughing so hard. He let himself smile for a moment.

"I can't make any promises."

* * *

><p>The shop's reopening was a grand success, and George was so busy keeping up with everything that summer for him flew by. Harry's birthday came and went, George hung out with his mates more, he started paying Angelina. Not only that, but he began to show her how to make some of the merchandise, and when even they were overwhelmed, Ron appeared to help them keep up with the demand. Ron spent increasingly less time doing Auror business with Harry, and before they all knew it, he was a regular storekeeper. George commented that that was the way it should be. It was <em>Weasleys<em>' Wizard Wheezes after all. It worked best when two Weasleys were at the forefront, though Ron was still laughably clueless about what to do sometimes. It made George miss Fred even more – that is, his actual brother and not the portrait.

He had found a better place for the painting and the obnoxiousness that embodied Fred years before the war really started to darken their lives. George had gotten an earful after apologizing to Angelina, but he realized now how right she had been. He had sent only his best memories of Fred to Cartwright, and the results had been that Fred was an immature, annoying idiot who didn't know how to turn himself off. George couldn't believe he had been the same once; he felt like so much had changed, _he_ had changed. He couldn't remember being so carefree and blissfully happy, spending all his waking hours trying to think of the best pranks. And as much as he wanted it to be that way again, he could never return to how he was. He had moved on, even grown up a little bit. The thought was scary and sobering, especially since he was forced to acknowledge that he would never be able to produce a Patronus again. The nostalgia of the portrait was a great reminder of the good days though, and he came up with the best way to fully utilize the portrait's potential and prove that he wasn't some stuffy, depressing adult just yet.

George decided to test it on Percy. His older brother was getting better, slowly but surely, though Percy did admit there were times when he just really wanted to hit the bottle and pass out so he wouldn't have to be alone with himself. Those were tough talks, tough days, but George understood. It was the same for him, with bad days and good days. Thankfully, the ratio was skewed more toward the positive, enough to power him through the worst of his lingering grief. It helped that he worked at a joke shop and was able to see kids playing tricks on each other every single day. He loved watching the younger ones the most. They were resilient buggers, tricked into poking their fingers into dangerous things by their elder siblings or friends and yelping when the inevitable happened, but eventually getting their revenge. It reminded him of better days when he and Fred were younger. He tried to remember what it felt like to be going to Hogwarts for the first time as so many of them were. The fear and excitement written on their faces…sometimes George slipped them a freebie with a note telling them to give any bullies hell.

It was the little things that made George happy. He loved seeing the couples grow stronger. He loved watching his younger brother and sister grow up and gain confidence in themselves. He loved watching older couples still in love, like his parents. He loved getting to spend time with his mates and plan a celebration instead of a funeral.

And of course, to make up for all that sentimentality, George still loved to prank people.

One day at work, he created a portable swamp in the store, right in front of Angelina. She fell into the tiny pit and emerged covered in mud and surrounded by buzzing flies, cursing her face off. She started to chuck sludge bombs at him and finally succeeded in trapping him in his own portable swamp, giving him the ammunition he needed to throw mud back at her. The entire store erupted into a massive mud fight that they spent days cleaning up, but it was absolutely worth it.

Angelina got him back a few days later when she snuck an Unlucky Charm into his pocket, causing him to create chaos wherever he went, leaving a wake of destruction and mayhem behind him. He knocked things over, unintentionally insulted people, tripped over himself and anything lying in his path, misplaced everything he picked up, and faced several random explosions that fried off his eyebrows. He didn't even think it was possible for a cup of tea to spontaneously combust, but he had been wrong.

George had thought it was over when he discovered the charm in his pocket, but then Angelina slipped one of their newer products, Phabulous Phlegm, into his snack and he spent the next hour hacking up phlegm monsters and doing battle with them as he tried to contain them before they covered everything with gooey mucus. Of course, by that point, Angelina had excused herself for home, saying it wasn't her job to clean up after him. He had glared at her satisfied smirk as she headed out the door before promptly coughing up another monster, vowing revenge.

He was able to vent some of mischievous plans on Percy when he had his brother meet him at Fred's grave. It was summer, so Hogwarts was mostly deserted, and the cemetery was covered in flowers and green grass. George crouched behind another tombstone and waited for Percy. He watched his brother approach, Percy's head bent solemnly as he glanced around, trying to locate George. Everything was calm until Percy stepped in front of Fred's stone and a voice sent him reeling backwards in shock.

"Ow, hey, don't step on me!"

Percy clutched at his heart and looked around wildly. "Fred?" he asked hesitantly, and George had to bite back his laughter.

"Fred? Dead Fred? Why would your dead brother be talking to you? Unless…he was a _zombie_!" The voice made zombie-like squelching noises, and Percy's eyes finally alit on Fred's tombstone, where George had merged the portrait with the stone.

George finally emerged from his hiding place, doubled over with tears in his eyes as Percy squared his jaw.

"George, that's not funny."

"No, it's hilarious!" When Percy still didn't look amused, George wiped his eyes and straightened. "It's perfect. Now he can prank people forever."

At that, Percy's lips twitched into an almost-smile, but he forcibly kept it off his face, knowing it would only give George more satisfaction. "I suppose. And…I am glad you seem to be feeling better." He let out a sigh. "Though I just wish you found better ways to spend your time."

"Better ways than pranking you? I've got to keep the tradition alive, don't you know? And this is just practice for the shop. Which is very successful, might I add."

Percy just shook his head and let out another dramatic, wistful sigh. "You had so much potential," he said, though he managed a small grin when George smacked his arm. "I'm happy for you."

Fred's portrait made gagging noises and added, "Oh get a room!" and Percy flipped his brother the bird, causing George to laugh when Fred sputtered indignantly.

"Percy, how crude!" George said in mock offense, and Percy rolled his eyes as he stalked away, Disapparating back to his flat.

George stared after him and grinned at his twin. "Well?"

"I think I could get used to these arrangements," Fred's picture said.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Haha, I've had it in my notes for a while to have Percy have a conversation in which he uses the word 'intercourse' because it's too hilarious not to! It might be a bit abrupt and inconsistent here, but I still think it's funny! And I love getting to write the boys enjoying their lives again. Yay, that means more sappy cuteness is on the way, haha! Hope you enjoyed this short and sweet chapter!  
><em>

_Happy 2013, my dear reviewers!_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Percy sighed blissfully and rubbed his eyes as he woke. He felt lighter and happier than he had in ages, partially due to his recovered health, but mostly due to the barely-clothed woman still asleep next to him. Audrey looked different without her glasses, but he loved that he could brush his fingers down her cheek without anything blocking his path. Tracing her cheekbone, he leaned over to plant a kiss on her forehead, causing her to make a content sound and then flutter her eyes open.

"Morning," she said, stretching. "Glad we don't have work today. I'm exhausted." She gave him a wink and grinned.

Percy shyly grinned back, thinking of the previous night. "Me too." He turned onto his bare stomach and buried his face in his pillow, letting out another sigh as he spoke muffled words.

"What?" Audrey said.

Percy shifted his head. "I said I'm glad you're here."

"For more reasons than one I imagine."

Percy snorted uncharacteristically. "No, well…"

Audrey propped herself up on her elbow and Percy fought to keep his eyes on her face.

"You really have to stop thinking I'm just going to up and leave. I've stuck with you this long, haven't I?"

Percy nodded and dropped his gaze. "I know. I just…sometimes I just wonder why."

She lifted his chin with her fingertips, forcing him to meet her eyes. "You know why. It's because I'm selfish," she said, her eyes sparkling.

"Right, _selfish_. Because you like fixing people. That seems the opposite of selfish, if you ask me."

She shrugged. "It can be selfish if you look at it a certain way… I should be the one surprised you're still with _me_! But this is silly. We're together. Why are we debating it?"

"Because that's what we do?"

"We shouldn't," Audrey said.

"Ah, but there are lots of things we shouldn't do," he said, and Audrey giggled as he nuzzled at her neck.

Sometime later, as the pleasure soaking his mind began to dissolve, Percy felt himself shiver. He had been with Audrey for more than seven months now, and should've felt comfortable with their relationship, but he couldn't help but doubt that it wouldn't last. He didn't exactly have the best record, and most of their relationship had involved cleaning the mess that was his life. She said she liked fixing things and didn't mind helping him, but what would happen once he wasn't broken anymore, once he stopped being a problem, a challenge? He realized that only _he_ could turn his own recovery into something negative, but the thoughts chewed at the back of his mind whenever he let his guard down. He knew it was going to be just like it was with Penelope in the end. Audrey would like him now, but there would be an excuse, a catalyst, and then she'd be done, having torn his heart out in the process.

"If George were here, he'd be rolling his eyes at me," he said aloud, reclining in his study while Audrey showered. While he had the chance, he decided to pull out the Checklist and gaze at where he had finally crossed off **4. Owl Penelope**. The note had been short and to the point, apologizing for the idiot he had been, telling Penelope of what happened during the war, how his family was now, and what he was involved in. She probably didn't care about any of it, but he had still rewritten every word at least fifteen times before sending it. The crossed-out drafts were ashes in the fireplace, and Percy wished that after all of that, he could've felt relieved about it. After all, what were the chances that Penelope would care enough to reply, after he had acted like such a prat? She had moved on, married another bloke from what he had heard at the Leaky Cauldron. She even had a kid now, a little boy named Danny. Why would she respond to an ex-boyfriend that had only recently stopped being a traitor to the free wizarding world?

Percy pinched the bridge of his nose. What was Iwan always telling him? Redirect the negative thoughts, breathe, let go, forgive. He had made loads of progress with the healer, but his situation with Penelope was so tender, every mention of it in his sessions felt like a red-hot iron was prodding his brain. Unfortunately, it was also one of the main sources of his self-resentment, and because of that, he had made terrible decisions to abandon his family and yada yada.

"I really need to stop fixating on this," he muttered to himself. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing, imagining the negative emotions leaving him with every exhale, and positive emotions filling him with every inhale. This continued for a while until a muted voice hit him like the volume had abruptly turned up.

"Percy? Percy?"

Startled, he glanced at the door to the study, where Audrey was poking her toweled head through.

"You alright, love? I'm sorry if I was interrupting."

"No, it's alright. What were you saying?"

"Oh. Just that the shower's ready, and you might want to get moving. You're meeting her at noon, right?"

Percy nodded and stood up, wrapping his bathrobe tighter around him as he headed to the shower.

Penelope.

He was meeting Penelope.

Against all odds, she had replied to his note with one saying they should meet and talk about old times at Fortescue's in Diagon Alley. A few notes later and their plans were set, and Percy, with a trembling hand, penned the appointment into his planner.

"You'll be fine," Audrey said to him as he tugged at his clothing, feeling like it was all too wrinkled or was it just him or were the clothes so tight they were suffocating?

Audrey straightened his shirt and leaned up to grip his face with both her small hands.

"Percy. I love you. It's going to be fine. She doesn't hate you, I promise. I'll be waiting here when you get back." She pressed her lips to his as he bent down, and he just wanted to stand there, snogging her forever, but she pulled away and gave him the look that said he needed to go and get this done. "Remember I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, concentrating his magic and Apparating with a pop.

* * *

><p>Diagon Alley was bustling with people, mostly families with Hogwarts-aged students buying last-minute supplies for the upcoming school year, as it was late August. The cobbled streets thrummed with hundreds of pounding feet, and the air resounded with laughter and yells and frantic parents and crying children, though there was an air of anticipation and excitement to it all. The instant Percy stepped into the throng, he felt overdressed and hot. Undoubtedly his destination would be similarly packed, and for a moment, he considered fleeing, when he reminded himself that it wasn't like he was fighting Death Eaters here. He was meeting with his ex-girlfriend. And it was a peaceful reunion.<p>

"Just go," he admonished himself sharply, lifting his chest and confidently striding through the crowds.

At Fortescue's, he paused to look over the mass of people and see if Penelope had already arrived. When he saw a curly-haired woman beckon to him, he steeled himself and pushed through the people to meet her at their outdoor table.

The first thing he noticed was the floating baby carriage beside her, and the sleeping boy within bearing the curly locks of his mother. Percy smiled at the lad and then at Penelope, who was beaming proudly at her son before suddenly rushing forward to hug Percy.

"It's so good to see you! I apologize for all the ruckus here. I somehow completely forgot Diagon Alley would be a nightmare this time of year. Honestly, I've only been out of Hogwarts a few years now!" She turned to her sleeping child and waggled her finger at him. "Maybe it's because my little Danny keeps me awake, so Mummy's losing her mind!"

Percy laughed and they finally sat down. He was surprised at how calm he felt.

"You look excellent for someone with an apparent lack of sleep," he commented.

Penelope shook her head. "Yeah, right! I've got bags under my eyes! Jim looks just as bad."

"Your husband? Oh, I suppose I should congratulate you."

She smiled. "Thank you. And I must say you look well. I was…worried for you, during the war. My family left the country and all, and I could only think of everyone who was still fighting. And you were in the thick of it, at the Ministry."

Percy dropped his gaze. "Well, I didn't realize things had gotten so bad until it was too late, and by then…it wasn't easy to get out. But I did, and I'm here now."

"And back at the Ministry, I hear, with a promotion to boot. My congratulations. If anyone deserved it for working hard, it's you."

"Thank you." Percy found his gaze wandering, and forced it back to Penelope, who smiled at him again.

"If you don't mind my asking, what prompted your note?" she asked. "I mean, it was lovely hearing about what's going on with you, but…"

"I guess… I guess I just needed some closure," Percy said, his heart hammering in his chest at the painful truth of his words.

Penelope's assumed a familiar, thoughtful expression. "I see. You've met someone?"

"Yes."

"Do you intend to marry her?"

Percy hesitated. "I…I don't know yet."

"But you love her."

He nodded. "She's stayed with me through so much… I don't deserve it." He raised his head and Penelope gave him a look.

"Don't you see you _do_ deserve it? You're a great man, Percy. So you've made mistakes. No one's perfect! You know…I want to thank you. You taught me a lot when we were together. You helped me learn more about myself. I hope…I hope that you can forgive me for hurting you."

A lump jammed in Percy's throat. "I know why you said no. And I wanted to apologize again for forcing you to make that decision."

"You didn't force me to do anything. Things happen, people change, life goes on. Are you happy, Percy? Because I am, and it's foolish to regret the past when we can't change it."

Percy was quiet for a moment and then, with a smile, said, "I knew there was a reason why I asked you out. You're brilliant, you know that?"

Penelope chuckled. "So I've been told."

"Good. So you should be told."

"You'll have to remind my husband of that," she said, laughing and letting out a gasp when Danny began to fuss. "Shush, darling," she cooed to him. She glanced at Percy. "Should we order ice cream? I feel like the owners are giving us the stink eye for not getting food but taking up their table!"

Percy agreed and went to order for them. He came back with two cones, and they enjoyed them in the sunshine and discussed happy and sad memories, and hopeful futures for themselves and their loved ones.

"I was so happy to see your brother's shop re-open," she said.

"Yes. Business is booming now."

"Understandably!"

Percy grinned and then cocked his head. "Speaking of understanding…your husband is an understanding man for letting you meet with me."

Penelope just shrugged. "What he doesn't know doesn't hurt him."

He laughed and shook his head. "You know…it's really good seeing you. For a long time, I was worried that you…hated me."

"Hate? That's not something I do very often. And I'm shocked that you don't know me better than that."

"You're right, of course," Percy said, and they both cracked up at an old joke between them.

They chatted for a while longer until they finished their ice creams and Danny began to squirm and wail impatiently. Soon after, they amicably parted ways, and Percy was left wondering why he had ever let himself get so caught up on what was clearly his imagination. Penelope was as he remembered her – kind, attentive, smart – but most importantly, forgiving. She was not a person to hold a grudge, and he knew that! Somehow he had convinced himself to forget. It was a relief realizing that it was all in his head, and he knew Iwan would be proud of his breakthrough.

Percy felt like he was soaring as he Apparated back to his flat. That is, until he saw Audrey come out of the study dangling a roll of parchment from her hand.

"Percy, what's this?"

* * *

><p>George flicked his wand and the sign on the door flipped over to CLOSED. The instant it was in place, he collapsed into a chair behind the counter, leaning his head back against the wall.<p>

"Bloody hell, I'm knackered," he said as Angelina appeared with a chart and quill floating next to her, updating itself whenever she spoke.

"Let's see… Oh, we're almost out of the Peruvian Darkness Powder, that'll be a special order… I thought we had already contacted them about the shipment last week?"

"Are you talking to me?" George asked.

Angelina scoffed. "No, I'm talking to the owner, who's a floating piece of paper."

"Alright, alright. I'll check the records, see if they've shipped it yet. Anyways, what's the score?" George leaned his chair forward so it wasn't tipping.

"Good. Profits are steady. A slight increase today, actually."

"Thank you, Hogwarts," he said, and Angelina grinned.

"Seriously. You're lucky your products haven't been banned yet."

"Oh, they've been banned already, I'm sure. McGonagall's not one to take chances with this kind of 'mischief,'" he said.

Angelina shook her head. "I don't know how you get away with it."

"Aren't you glad I am?" He rubbed his thumb with his index and middle fingers, the universal sign for money. She sighed and he stood up. "Oh, that reminds me – I've got your bonus."

He darted to the stairs and up the landing, Angelina's eyes trailing him.

"What bonus?" she called after him.

"The summer 'sorry we didn't get to practice Quidditch much' bonus," he answered, reappearing on the landing waving a piece of parchment.

Angelina's face was full of conflicted emotions, the foremost gratitude and embarrassment. "Come off it! I don't need a bonus…" she said, raising her eyebrows at the amount when George handed her the paper. "George, this is too much!"

He shook his head. "Nope. It's what you're owed. More than Lee's salary, but don't tell him that." When she persisted, he added, "Ange, you wanted to make the Harpies. It's your dream, right? Kind of hard to make your dream happen when you haven't been able to practice because I've been a lazy arse."

"Lazy? You're not lazy. Selfish, yes, but not lazy."

He grinned at her. "Fair enough. But I'm not taking that back. And maybe this weekend we can practice? I _need_ to get out of the shop!"

Angelina laughed. "Maybe. We'll see. But I thought you were getting out of the shop tonight with dinner at the Burrow?"

"Dinner at home is not a holiday," he said. "Especially with Mum's fussing." He rolled his eyes as he tidied up some of the shelves. "She's feeling sad that we're all too old to be going to Hogwarts now."

"Aww, that's cute."

George shot Angelina a look as she joined him in rearranging some of the messier aisles. As she moved to the other side, they continued their conversation over the divide.

"Cute's not the word I would use."

"Don't be mean to your mum. She's a great mum!"

"I'm not arguing! I'm just saying…she's not _usual_ you know? Is your mum at home weeping into a hanky because her only daughter's not going to school?"

Angelina laughed. "No, but that's because she's on hols in the Bahamas with my dad."

He paused, and stuck his head around the aisle. "You're taking the mickey."

"Nope. Why is that so surprising?"

"They left you?"

"They left me and my well-paying job."

George snorted and posed right in her aisle so she had to look at his ridiculous posture.

She pouted at him from down on her knees, where she had been re-stocking some of the love potions. "What?"

"Well, if you're not completely tired of my mug, would you want to come to the Burrow tonight?"

Angelina blinked in shock, and then a blush crept up her face. "You're inviting me to your house for dinner cooked by your mum? Sounds romantic."

George frowned. "Who said anything about romantic? I'm inviting you as my mate, so you don't have to eat alone tonight."

She gazed up at him, studying him closely. He squirmed under her scrutiny and watched as her shoulders slumped.

"Oh." She gave a fleeting smile. "Well, in that case, how could I say no? Wouldn't want to be pathetic by eating alone when I don't have to, especially when it's your mum's cooking."

"Right?" he grinned, not understanding why her humor had so abruptly vanished. He was spared from pondering it when there was a pounding on the front door. He and Angelina exchanged glances and she stood up. As she looked inquiringly at him, he said, "I'll get it."

At the door was a small blond woman with glasses that he immediately recognized. Why his brother's girlfriend would be pounding on his door, he could only imagine.

"Hey Audrey. Stop by for a chat before dinner tonight?" he asked, but she only responded by racing forward to squeeze him in a hug. Over her head, George glanced around outside for Percy, and found it immensely odd that his brother's girlfriend had arrived without him and was now embracing George for apparently no reason. "Erm…are you alright?"

"What's…?" came Angelina's voice as she stepped around the corner and scowled at the image in the doorway.

"I just wanted to thank you," Audrey said, finally pulling apart. George looked from her teary face to Angelina's furious one, utterly confused.

"What's going on?" Angelina demanded.

George made the conscious move to step as far away from the small woman as he could as he crossed to close the door. He put up his hands in a placating gesture as he appealed to Angelina. "I don't know what's happening. Really!"

"Bollocks! George! She found the Checklist!" came Percy's voice as he burst onto the landing, staring down at them with frantic eyes.

George felt himself growing cold. "What?" His brows furrowed as he tried to focus on one thing first. "Wait, where did you just come from?"

"The Floo Network. I thought it might be faster," Percy said, panting, as he came over to the group. Angelina was still scowling, only a bit more puzzled than George. Audrey approached George and removed a folded parchment from her pocket. Opening it, George saw the familiar writing and his heart sank.

He took a deep breath and glared at Percy. "What happened?"

Percy was pale and stricken as he shrugged. "I left it out by accident and—"

"You left it _out_?" George demanded.

Percy squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking straight! I met with Penelope today, and my mind was completely—"

"Percy, this was supposed to be _between us_. How could you just forget?"

"Wait, wait. Will someone tell me what's going on?" Angelina interrupted, striding forward and gazing into all of their faces.

"Here," Audrey said as she handed the Checklist to Angelina, who scanned it quickly.

"Okay…I don't…?" she said, still confused.

Audrey's face was sad. "Ask them what W.Y.S.K.Y. stands for."

"What? Why? What does it stand for?" Her eyes flickered to George, who stubbornly stared at his feet. "George?"

"It stands for 'Why You Shouldn't Kill Yourself,'" Percy said quietly, defeated.

Angelina blinked. "Why you shouldn't…kill yourself," she repeated as if in a daze.

"This Checklist was written to keep them from…doing the worst," Audrey said.

George huffed angrily, glaring at Percy. "So you told her?" he exclaimed in outrage. He rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. "I can't believe this. Look, Angelina, it was right after Fred died. We were both in a bad place."

Realization dawned in Angelina's eyes. "Wait…so this is what kept you from…from killing yourselves? This…this _checklist_?" She cut George off when he started to speak. "So if you hadn't written this, you wouldn't be here? Is that what you're saying? You were so bad off that a piece of paper made the difference?"

George didn't want to look at Angelina's face, as he could feel the shame welling within him. The ache throbbed hopefully, but he inhaled a deep breath and forced himself to meet her eyes.

"Yes. To everything. We wrote this to keep each other from…from ending it. If one of us couldn't, then neither could the other."

Angelina blinked rapidly. "So…you wrote goals to keep each other alive?"

George swallowed. "Yes." He sighed. "No one else was supposed to see this. It was just between us."

"You didn't think it was important to mention that you were suicidal?" Angelina snapped. "We were already so worried about you, and… Oh Merlin, was this the day of his funeral, when you disappeared?" George nodded weakly and Angelina threw up her hands. "I can't believe this!"

"To be fair, I was the one considering it more," Percy cut in. "When George arrived…he just barely stopped me." He released a shaky breath. "Don't blame him."

"And don't blame Percy," George interrupted. "We both came up with it together. It was just guidelines to get us through the worst of it. But…it's been barely guidelines these past few months. Right, Perce?"

His older brother looked ready to curl up in the fetal position. Percy managed a half-hearted shrug. "I guess. Though…until today, that Penelope one was…rather difficult."

Angelina shook her head. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I don't get why you're making such a big deal of this!" George said angrily. "Yes, we were both in bad head spaces. Yes, we both considered doing bad things. But then we wrote this and it helped us! We got through it, we're still here, and we're _fine_ now. What does it matter that we didn't tell anyone?"

"Because we could've helped you if we knew it was this bad!"

"Oh yeah, _HOW_?" George demanded in Angelina's face. She held her ground and glared back at him, but had no answers. "This is so stupid!" he continued, stalking away.

"It's stupid to care about you?" Angelina said, and George whirled on her.

"Don't make it like that! This was over a year ago! You've seen us now! We're fine, we're happy, right Percy? Percy?" he repeated when his brother hesitated to respond.

"Yes, yes, we're happy," Percy said quickly at George's look. "Or at least…happ_ier_. We're dealing with things and we're not going to hide anything anymore." He directed this last statement to Audrey who was unsuccessfully avoiding his pleading eyes.

Audrey sighed. "Percy… Look, I'm sorry. I didn't think it would get so blown up like this. But don't you see that Angelina has a point? We care about both of you. We want you to be alright, to…to live and be happy."

Percy came to her and took her hands. "I am. I'm so happy with you. Please don't go because of this."

Audrey leaned into him. "I'm not going anywhere. I was just…shocked and…sad." She let out a little chuckle. "And I had wondered what prompted you to contact Penelope when you so badly didn't want to." She pulled back to give George a smile. "Thank you. It went well, apparently, and really helped. Right, love?" She gazed back up at Percy and he smiled at her and then George.

"Yes. Penelope doesn't hate me after all."

George gave a lopsided grin. "Told you, you prat. You get your knickers in a bunch over nothing."

Percy let out a breath, his expression sheepish. "Right."

They all started when Angelina abruptly stepped forward, thrusting the Checklist into Percy's hands.

"Well, that's settled then, isn't it. Carry on, I suppose. And give George some more goals before he runs out of things to do." Still bristling, she swept past them toward the counter.

"Ange, don't be like that," George called after her.

"I'm just getting my things. We have dinner tonight, don't we?" she said as she returned with her purse and her bonus check. She gave George a frosty smile and his jaw tightened.

"You're being unfair."

"And you're being an egotistical arsehole again." She brushed past them and out the door to Disapparate. George, frozen with his hand outstretched, let his shoulders slump.

"I'm sorry, George," Percy said.

"I would apologize, too, but I don't want to," Audrey added as she clutched Percy's hand.

George unfroze, gave his brother a murderous look, and then stomped outside after Angelina to follow her to the Burrow. Percy and Audrey were close behind him.

* * *

><p><em>AN:_ _Out of all of the chapters, I honestly think this is my favorite one so far...and part of it is because of the writing, if you'll allow me to be egotistical! This was written soon after I finished a really great book called 'Daughter of Smoke and Bone,' and I think that really helped me with this one!_

_I hope you enjoyed it! I honestly had no idea that the Checklist was going to be discovered like this, or who was going to be there, haha! Let's see what happens next!  
><em>


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: I want to start off by quickly crediting my friend, who helped me come up with the new Weasleys' Wizard Wheeze_s_ products that were used last chapter and in the future! Thanks iheartmwpp!_

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><p><span>Chapter 18<span>

Of course Angelina would still come to the Burrow even though she was furious, George thought. Only _she_ would pretend everything was fine with his family when she was still upset underneath it all. Only _she_ would covertly torture him all night while she smiled and laughed with his siblings. If she were any other girl, she wouldn't have even stayed with him. She would've thrown his invitation back in his face and stalked away. But _no_, this was _Angelina_. She was born to make life difficult.

Despite his parents' complete obliviousness, Ginny managed to come over to him as they were clearing the table.

"What did you do?" she hissed, nodding over at Angelina, who was talking to Ron about Quidditch.

"I didn't do bloody anything. She's just pissed," George whispered back, rolling his eyes when Ginny gave him a 'you really think I'm that dumb?' look. "I mean it!"

"Well, whatever you did, you better apologize or your business is going to suffer," she said, smiling haughtily.

"And how do you know that, Miss High and Mighty? Ange is my mate."

"Your _mate_? Just your mate?" Ginny said.

George scowled. "I've known her longer than you have! We were on the Quidditch team long before _you_ got there!"

Ginny let out a long-suffering sigh. "You really don't get it. The men in this family. Honestly!" With that, she huffed and headed into the kitchen, leaving George utterly baffled. He exchanged a brief look with Percy, but his brother quickly turned back to Audrey, as they were deep in conversation at the table. George just pulled up his sleeves and tried to make himself useful. He had learned that there was no point in reflecting on the mysterious words of women, especially his sister. It would just give him a headache.

A week later found George back at the Burrow for another family dinner, though this time, Angelina was conspicuously absent. Or at least, it seemed conspicuous to him, as he had nothing to worry about when it came to her previous fury. In fact, the Checklist had once again been buried, as their lives took more precedence. Angelina hadn't mentioned the incident with the Checklist since it happened, and though she seemed past it, there was a frostiness to her voice and demeanor that made George nervous, as if he was waiting for a bomb to go off. He had let it go on for several days before finally trying to diffuse the tension with some nervous words.

"Are you alright?" he had managed to ask, mentally bracing himself.

She had only looked at him and shrugged. "Yeah, why?"

"Erm…you seem upset?"

"Well I'm not."

"Oh. That's good then," he said.

"Actually, I did have something I wanted to talk to you about."

George had felt himself freeze in anticipation, but as it turned out, Angelina was only requesting some time off to help Alicia go dress shopping. Since Hogwarts was now in session and the majority of their clientele was away, there was plenty of downtime, and he had told her absolutely, she could take as much time as she wanted. But even though he had been relieved when she smiled at him, he felt something like displeasure coil in his stomach.

When he pondered over it that night, he realized that he didn't look forward to working without Angelina. Sure, Ron was there to help, but he was mostly creating the products as they needed them in the backroom. He wasn't exactly helping him plan their next move, like their expansion into Hogsmeade. Hell, Angelina was turning out to be a better business partner than Lee ever was, and George didn't relish the idea of manning the shop alone.

But alone he had been for a few days, and alone he was again tonight at the Burrow. It made him feel left out to not have someone next to him. He would even prefer having a pissed Angelina sitting beside him than to have no one! All the couples were bloody irritating in the cutesy way they teased each other and shared secret jokes and whispers. It made George want to chuck.

For that reason, George was immensely relieved when Bill and Fleur clinked their glasses, signaling for quiet. The table turned to them eagerly.

"Well… Do you want to tell them?" Bill asked Fleur as they stood up, facing the rest of the dining table, barely keeping the smiles off their faces. Fleur nodded, her breath hitching excitedly.

"Everyone, we are going to 'ave a baby!" she declared, and the table erupted into congratulations.

"You too, Bill? How does that work?" George spoke up cheekily, earning him a swat from Ginny next to him, who was beaming.

"That's brilliant! I'll be an aunt!"

"A bloody scary one, too, with all your Quidditch muscles," George commented, pinching his sister as she pinched him back.

"Honestly, you'd think you two were still children," Percy huffed and Audrey giggled at his side as Ginny catapulted a pea at him when their mother's back was turned. Their father saw it and raised his eyebrows with a stern look, but otherwise let it continue as he tried to calm down his wife, who was getting carried away over her first grandchild.

"Will it be a boy or girl, do you think? Oh, I'll have to start knitting baby clothes! Perhaps we still have some in the attic?"

Ron grimaced. "You might not want those. I 'spect the ghoul's gotten into them by now…"

"What would the ghoul be doing with baby clothes?" interrupted Hermione and Ron rolled his eyes.

"It was a blooming joke! And the ghoul might've for all we know. We don't know what it does up there besides make noise."

"Obviously it's probably playing with the clothes like they're baby dolls, cooing to them, rocking them to sleep…" Harry said, grinning when Ron gave him an exasperated look.

"Prat," Ron said, kicking his mate under the table.

Suddenly, their mum stood up with a fuss. "We must let Charlie know! We best go write him now!"

"Molly, dearest, dinner's not even over yet," his dad said patiently as he pulled his wife back down. "I'm sure Charlie will hear soon enough."

"But not just Charlie, Arthur! We must let the family know! Our first grandchild!" She pressed her hands together and sniffled, her eyes teary as she gazed adoringly at Bill and Fleur, who were trying to remain calm under her overly dramatic behavior, though George could see actual fear in their eyes. "This shall be the biggest celebration yet! When should we have the shower?"

"Mum, she's only a few weeks along," Bill said weakly. "Maybe a shower in…six, seven months?"

"That doesn't matter! We should start planning now!"

As his mum continued to overreact, George saw Ron lean into Hermione and whisper, "Remind me to never tell her any happy news." That earned him a playful slap, but even Harry and Ginny were nodding and stifling their laughter at that. It made George lonely watching them all interact, though he hid it behind a genuine smile on his eldest brother's behalf.

George was startled out of his internal musings when Ron nudged Hermione and she cleared her throat loudly.

"Erm, everyone, I have an announcement as well."

George wanted to laugh at the panicked expression on Ron's face when their mum looked at him fiercely, clearly thinking he had either knocked up Hermione or proposed to her.

"Yes, Hermione?" Arthur asked, cutting off his wife who was wringing her hands, on the verge of exploding.

Hermione ducked her head, slightly embarrassed with everyone's attention on her. "I don't mean to steal your thunder," she started, nodding at Bill and Fleur.

"Oh no, please," Bill said, ushering her to speak.

"Right. Well, I've decided to write a book. An autobiography actually. About Harry. Just to set things straight."

The whole table shifted their attention to Harry, who hurried to explain.

"Don't worry, I already know about it. She already asked me. I thought it might be weird, but…" He gestured to Hermione, who continued.

"My thoughts were that everyone wants to know what Harry did during the war. There was that big interview in The Prophet last year, but there's so much more that the public doesn't know—"

"Or believe," Ron muttered.

"—and I think it would be good to give them an accurate account of what's really been going on. I bring it up now because, well, you'll all be in it and I could use your input. If you all agree, that is." Before anyone could answer, she hurriedly added, "Understandably, of course, not everything will be in it, for safety's sake. And some things are private, I know. But if I could conduct short interviews with all of you, it would be really helpful."

The table was silent for a moment, and then Percy spoke.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Hermione. Truly."

"Oh. Thank you, Percy," she said, blushing. Ron grinned at her and then at his brother.

"I agree," Audrey chimed in. "I already heard you're translating Beedle the Bard. You'll make Harry's story fantastic!"

"It doesn't need to be fantastic," Harry said quickly. "It just needs to be real. But I think you'll do great."

"Yeah, she's a brilliant writer already!" Ron said, the expression proud as he gazed at his girlfriend.

Hermione just tutted. "Well, you and Harry certainly gave me enough practice at Hogwarts. I had to learn to be creative to write the same thing in three different ways."

There was silence from that, and then the table laughed in understanding. All except Percy and their mum, who both looked utterly scandalized. George just grinned, though his humor dimmed again when he thought of his and Fred's essays. They had done much of the same, copying each other's work and making it just different enough that it didn't seem like they were collaborating. He suspected their professors already knew, though there wasn't much they could do to stop them, especially when he and Fred began to use some of their products to help them out. The Spell-Checking Quills had been a particularly brilliant stroke of genius, despite the spells eventually wearing off. He and Fred fixed them in their final year before leaving Hogwarts for good, and never really got the chance to personally use them again. The shop happened, the war happened, Fred died… George felt himself sinking deeper and struggled to shake himself out of it. After all, he had just heard some great news and he should be feeling happy.

Returning to the present, he listened to the numerous conversations the table was having about Hermione's interviews. She was taking the whole matter very seriously, and had even brought out a planner to schedule their meeting times. She seemed very determined to get all of their opinions and observations, though George felt a stab of reluctance and desperately wished she didn't want to talk to him. But of course she did. He looked away when her gaze fell on him, and he was thankful that she seemed to sense that he was in a mood. Thankfully, no one else appeared to notice and the talk shifted back to Bill and Fleur's baby. George let the inane chatter fill him up, force a contented expression on his face, until the food was cleared away and they began to disperse. By the time George made it back to his flat, he just wanted to curl up in bed and let oblivion claim him.

Unfortunately, he woke up the next morning in the same disheartened mood. He didn't feel like opening shop because he just couldn't bring himself to pretend to be happy. Since Angelina already wasn't coming in, he sent a note to Ron telling him to take the day off, and George spent the next few hours toiling with some of his products before growing fed up and restless. The shop was already clean so there was nothing to do, and he decided to make a trip to Hogsmeade to check out the future location of his store's first branch to cheer himself up.

This time of year, Hogsmeade was fairly empty as many of those on summer holidays had returned to work. Instead, the shop owners and proprietors were scurrying about, trying to make things presentable for when the first of the Hogwarts' students started visiting. For George, the atmosphere, full of anticipation for new beginnings with a new crop of students, was exhausting. After staring at the former Zonko's, which was still boarded up, he made his way over to the Hog's Head, feeling like he could use something to make the day go by more quickly. He paused with his hand on the door handle, thinking of Percy, and momentarily grimaced before reminding himself that he wouldn't let himself get that bad. Thinking that, he remembered Audrey and consoled himself with the fact that, even if Percy had been in such a bad place, at least now he was in a better one with a woman who obviously cared a great deal for him. What a great couple they were.

George needed a drink.

He stepped inside and approached a wooden table in the corner before turning his head to the sound of familiar laughter. George let himself grin as he went over to say hello to a mate he hadn't seen in a while.

"George!" Neville greeted him, surprised, before gesturing for him to sit beside him. Neville glanced at the old man sitting across from him. "Aberforth, do you know George? George Weasley?"

Aberforth squinted one eye at George. "Weasley? They all look the same. Meet one and you've met them all."

"Well aren't you pleasant," George said, and Aberforth let out a grunt.

"Another wise arse."

"Aberforth, be nice," Neville said. "George was in Dumbledore's Army and fought in the Battle of Hogwarts."

The old wizard grunted again and got up, waving his hand dismissively and muttering to himself as he returned to the bar.

"Nice fellow," George said as he took a seat beside Neville.

"He's always like that to strangers, but he lightens up a bit once you get to know him," Neville said.

George nodded, raising his eyebrow skeptically. "Just a bit? Sounds lovely. Nice seeing you, by the way! It's been a while. Oh, and do you mind?" he asked, indicating the pitcher on the table.

"It has been a while! And please, help yourself. It's just Butterbeer that Aberforth filched."

"Just Butterbeer?" George said in mock outrage.

"Well, some of us have to keep up appearances. I'm working at Hogwarts now, gotta get back soon and help Professor Sprout transplant some Mandrakes for the Second Years."

George chuckled. "Look at you, getting all professor-y."

Neville shrugged. "It's been a dream of mine. I mean, it's not like I'm good at much else."

"Come off it, you're a bloody hero. You could have fortunes and girls draping off of you—"

Neville snorted into his glass and began to choke. At last catching his breath, he wiped his mouth. "_Right_," he said skeptically. "Anyways, glad to see you're doing well. I heard you were…well, pretty down last year."

George took a swig of Butterbeer and sighed. "Wow, I've missed this stuff." He regarded his glass appreciatively for a moment and continued, "Pretty down is an understatement. And why does everyone seem to know about my life?"

Neville grinned. "Let's just say it's nice having a girlfriend who works at the most popular pub in Britain."

"You sly dog! I thought you were with Luna?"

Neville looked away, shrugging absently. "We were together for a little while, but it didn't work out. We're still mates though."

"So who're you seeing now?"

Neville blushed. "Hannah. Hannah Abbott."

George leaned forward. "No way! And she's a _barmaid _now? You're living the dream!"

"Barmaid?" Neville repeated, frowning.

"Barmaid, bar wench. You take your pick."

"Bar wench? I don't think Hannah would appreciate that. She actually wants to own the Leaky Cauldron, you know."

George nodded. "Alright, alright. Glad the girl has ambitions. Branching out." His lips stretched into a smile, though it didn't make it to his eyes. Why had he thought Neville would help him feel less lonely? He was with someone, too! Every bloody person here was paired up with someone, save perhaps Aberforth, and George didn't want to think of what the crusty old man did when he was lonely. There were nasty rumors involving the man and his goats…

George shuddered and dragged himself out of those frankly disgusting thoughts. He realized Neville was asking him a question.

"George? George? I was just asking what you're doing around here. I heard you were considering opening a branch in the old Zonko's?"

"Oh, yeah. I was just scoping it out again. Won't be happening for a while, but it's in the works."

"That's good to hear. By the way, I'm sorry I haven't stopped by the shop yet. It was a madhouse over the summer. I was helping Professor Sprout with a new landscaping project."

"Sounds exciting," George said wryly.

Neville brightened. "It really was, though! We brought in these spectacular trees from Japan and—"

George let him prattle on for a while, nodding when the conversation permitted, until Neville finally stopped, realizing that George wasn't listening.

"You've got other things on your mind?"

George blew out a breath. "Yeah, sorry."

"Bad day?"

George nodded.

"Well, where you headed after this?"

"Probably going to visit Fred's grave. I'm here. Might as well."

"I could walk with you?"

George let himself smile slightly. "Thanks, Neville, but I'm alright. You've got work to do."

"Are you sure?" Neville asked, and George was touched by his concern. Neville had never really been more than acquaintance, and here this kid was, volunteering to accompany him so he wouldn't be lonely. That, and sharing his Butterbeer, and conversing so easily…

"I'm sure. Thanks for everything, mate. Really. You didn't have to do…this." He gestured to the table, hoping his sincere gratitude came across.

Neville just shrugged. "No problem, George. We were all there in the end. It's the least I could do."

"You're a good kid. I'll have to stop by the Leaky Cauldron more to patronize your girlfriend, since I just can't pretend to like plants as much as you."

Neville laughed. "Then I'll just have to come by the Burrow and sample your mum's cooking, since I can't pretend I'm not afraid of your joke shop and its products."

That earned a real laugh from George, and he smirked. "We didn't torture you _that_ badly."

"Let's just say that I've had enough Nosebleed Nougat to last a lifetime."

George pat him on the back as he said goodbye, and he left the Hog's Head in better spirits, smiling to himself at just how much Neville had changed. A lot of things had changed…and he let out a dejected sigh again. It was really just going to be one of those days, wasn't it?

He continued to Fred's grave, but quickly got annoyed of the obnoxious portrait's terrible jokes and flatulent sounds. On the way out of the cemetery, he paused for a moment next to Remus's and Tonks's graves, bowing his head and frowning when he couldn't remember the last time he had seen Teddy. Then again, he'd been busy, and it wasn't like he was related to the kid. Still, the boy was the son of a Marauder. George would have to see if there were any childproof products he could pass along, and made a mental note to pay Mrs. Tonks a visit.

Speaking of the son of a Marauder, Harry hadn't been to the shop in a while either. George and Angelina had discussed the line of defense objects he and Fred had started making. With the war over, they had focused more on the sillier items, but Angelina had pointed out that families still wanted to be safe, and some of their products could really come in handy in case any of the rogue Death Eaters wanted to attempt a suicidal attack. They were very small in numbers now that the Auror Department was almost fully recovered, but that didn't mean there weren't any new threats out there, and the war had left everyone paranoid. Angelina had suggested that he talk to Harry and see if they could establish a contract, or at the very least, a contact in the Ministry who might approve their products for department-wide distribution. Add that to the list in his mind, and George almost felt like he had things to do. Too bad he didn't feel like doing any of them right now, especially alone.

"A walking bloody pity party," George muttered to himself as he left the cemetery and wandered down toward Hagrid's hut and the Forbidden Forest. In a glum mood, he suddenly didn't feel like talking to the half-giant, and veered instead to the edge of the forest. He was just walking along, watching the distant Hogwarts students setting up outside as they were already loaded with homework, when a beeping sound nearly gave him a heart attack. Whipping around, George stared right into the broken yet blinding headlights of an old friend.

"You've got to be joking," he said, his eyes widening as he stared at the flying Ford Anglia. He had heard from Ron that the car had gone wild in the forest, but he hadn't imagined it was _still_ there! Surely the enchantments on it had worn off by now? But apparently not, as the car revved up and beeped again, almost like a dog greeting its owner. "Bloody hell!" George said, his eyes roaming over the battered and badly damaged vehicle. Somehow, though its tires looked flat and it was covered in dirt and branches and leaves, it was still driving. "You are one tough old bird," he said, shaking his head in amazement. He grinned, recalling when he and his brothers had driven to rescue Harry. That had been one hell of a night, what with filching the car, figuring out how to get it to work, and then fighting over who got to drive. Fred eventually won, but at least George got to ride up front. He had never felt so free and rebellious! Stealing that car had been a turning point for much bigger aspirations…

Smirking, George approached the car and awkwardly patted the bent bonnet. The car responded with a sound almost like a purr. "What, you want to go for a ride, old girl?" The car revved and George only had to think for a second, realizing that this wasn't even remotely the most reckless or odd thing he had ever done. So, without further preamble, he shimmied into the front seat and whooped and hollered as the car took him on the ride of his life. It appeared the old Anglia could no longer fly, but she could damn well drive, and George had to swallow his tongue before biting it when they crashed over roots and logs. He had never really been into the Forbidden Forest much, and it was amazing the whole world that lived in there. They passed a herd of centaurs, and George swore he recognized some of them, but they didn't bother to spare a glance.

By the time the car brought him back to the edge of the forest, the sun was going down and George had left his dejected mood far behind him. The car booted him out and he landed on his rear, cursing, and when he turned back, the Ford Anglia had reversed into the forest out of sight. George stood up and watched bats emerge from the wood to begin their feasting on insects in the twilight.

"I probably shouldn't mention this," he said aloud to himself. "Sounds right pathetic that I spent my afternoon with a car… They'll probably think one of my products backfired and I hit my head." Chuckling to himself, George Apparated back to his flat, feeling loads better because of a friendly, dog-like car, of all things. It had been, admittedly, a strange day, but it certainly wouldn't be his last.

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><p><em>AN: Well, this was a chapter I had not previously planned... Hope it's not too obvious? Haha! My New Year's Resolution has been to write at least 100 words a day, so this fanfiction's been getting a lot of attention even though I'm running out of the scenes I had originally planned! More keep coming to me everyday, so don't worry about that! And I know EXACTLY how I want to end this, so it's just a matter of getting there! _

_Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the super corny bit with the car, haha! I just really wanted to include it somehow!  
><em>


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"Think of anything yet?"

Percy, who was absently chewing on the end of his quill, jumped when Audrey leaned her chin on his shoulder, peering onto the desk to stare at the Checklist.

Percy sighed. "No. I can't think of anything good for George. Must I really add to it? He said he didn't need any more goals. He wanted to figure it out on his own."

Audrey hummed appreciatively, but still shook her head. "But he's given you so many. It's unfair, don't you think? You should even it out with a good one."

"Like what? I'm open to ideas."

Audrey tapped her cheek. "Alright. Angelina."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Angelina?"

Audrey rolled her eyes. "Oh come on! You don't see it? She obviously fancies George!"

"But I heard she's dating some other bloke now?"

"And George has been moping around in a foul mood ever since. Coincidence? I think not."

Percy blew out a breath and abruptly shivered. "Blimey, it's cold…"

"Oh, it's snowing again!" Audrey announced as she crossed to the window. "I'll tell Dad to add more to the fireplace." She left the room to speak with her father, who was in the cottage kitchen brewing tea.

It was December already, somehow. Summer had ended with less of a smooth transition and more of a sudden frost and a chilly autumn, making way for a snow-filled winter crammed with holiday parties and festivities that Percy was actually looking forward to attending this time around. With his health the best it had been in recent times, and no one in his family to really worry about, he felt almost carefree in a lightheaded sort of way. But it all seemed too good to be true, and when no one was looking, he internally braced himself for the inevitable disaster that always seemed to loom on his horizon. Would someone get sick? Would Audrey dump him? Would he suffer a relapse? Would George go mad with grief? Would Bill and Fleur lose the baby? Would someone else die? The thoughts were maddening, but there was little he could do to prevent them. As his healer Iwan had said, Percy was predisposed for the 'worst case scenario' and was always preparing for it to happen, even in the most unlikely of cases.

"You still alive in there?" croaked a voice, and Percy smiled over at Edward Littleton in the doorway, Audrey's father. The gruff old man had been leery of Percy at first, especially after Audrey had brought him to their cottage when he had fainted at the Ministry and then left in a huff. The man was shrewd and determined to pick out all of Percy's flaws, but over the months, time and Audrey's sweet insistences had worked to charm him in Percy's favor. In one sense, it was a great relief to have such a positive relationship with Audrey's relatives. But in another, his good standing meant that he and Audrey were progressing into more serious relationship territory. Percy had even more tightly held onto the Checklist in fear of what his brother might add to his goals, sensing that the family was ready for another wedding. Thankfully, the promise of a grandchild had mostly drawn away his mother's gleaming eyes, but every once in a while, Percy saw her beaming at him and Audrey and he felt his lungs stiffen and his breaths sputter.

Was he ready to commit to Audrey? The answer was yes, of course, always yes. But was she ready to commit to him? He wanted to believe she felt the same way, but dreaded that she didn't. He didn't know what he'd do if he was rejected again. And of course, rehashing these thoughts made him feel like he was thinking only of himself, and the downward spiral would continue until he forcibly shook himself out of it, which he quickly did to respond to Audrey's father.

"I am still alive, yes. Though I fear we may be snowed in again."

The old man grunted. "Snowed in? We're wizards aren't we? I daresay that won't be a problem."

"You're quite right," Percy said with a fleeting smile.

Edward paused in the doorway. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"And…will you be spending the night?"

Edward's voice was strange, and Percy wasn't sure how to answer. "Well, as you said, we're wizards so I can certainly Floo back to my flat."

Edward worked his jaw for a while, and finally said, "You can stay if you want. In…in Jake's room."

A lump formed in Percy's throat, and he struggled to speak around it.

"I would be honored, sir."

"Good," Edward harrumphed. "I'll make breakfast."

As he stomped away, Audrey brushed by him, giving her father a quick peck on the cheek before sweeping into the room.

"Dad likes you, you know," she said, lying back on her bed.

"Oh?"

"He especially likes that you're a fine, upstanding Ministry man, and that you're head of your department. I think he forgot that you used to be my boss."

"Did you mention your absurd crush on me?"

Audrey laughed. "A bit. Though I think he believes I was crushing on a much handsomer bloke."

"Oh really?" Percy said, coming to join her on the bed. They snuggled for a bit but Audrey pulled apart.

"Not too much with Dad here," she said, grinning wickedly.

"Right, of course."

"And tomorrow, I think you should go visit your brother and talk to him about Angelina."

Percy frowned. "Just casually bring it up? He'll certainly go for that."

"I mean it! And then you should go do something for you. What is it you want to do, Percy? What do you want for Christmas for you?"

"What are you on about?" he asked, confused.

Audrey propped herself up on her elbows to gaze down at him. "You do so much for other people, but you barely care for yourself."

Percy sighed, annoyed. "Audrey, please not this again."

"Yes, this again. You need to love yourself before you can love anyone else. That's what Iwan says, too, right?"

Percy restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "Well, what if what I want is to be with other people? Like you, like my family?"

"It's not quite the same and you know it."

He pursed his lips. "Shall we agree to disagree then?"

"I guess we shall," she said with a huff, getting up and sauntering out. He stared after her. What did she want from him? Was he not giving himself enough care? He was eating better, he took more breaks at work, he started going on walks on his off days so he wouldn't just sulk in his flat. He _was_ taking care of himself, so why did she insist on such an annoying venture?

Thankfully, Percy was busy in the next few days and couldn't spare time to puzzle more over what she said. His night over at the Littleton's had been successful, and he had really felt himself opening up to Audrey's father. Then it was back to work and an odd day off when a miscast spell wreaked havoc in his department, sending papers flying in every direction and scrambling the words on the pages. Needless to say it was a disaster, and Percy took Iwan's advice and simply stepped out for a day to let his subordinates handle the mess. He felt bad for doing it, but Iwan assured him the stress he would put on himself and the others just wasn't worth it, especially since it was supposed to be a joke all along. Or at least Boot and Corner thought so.

So, on this rare day off, Percy decided to pay a visit to his brother, though not the one Audrey had suggested. Sending out Hermes with a note to see if Bill was available, the owl returned with a promising response and Percy headed to the fireplace. He burst into Shell Cottage and collided with his eldest brother, who was covered in streaks of blue paint. Bill's scarred face twisted into a grin as he steadied Percy.

"Didn't think you'd come so quickly! Mind helping? Fleur has me painting the baby's room while she's out."

Percy frowned. "Are you doing it by hand?"

Bill shrugged. "A little bit. It's more accurate than magic with the edges, anyways. Actually, are you peckish? We can grab a quick bite before heading up."

"Erm…sure. I could go for a little something."

"Perfect. We've got all the fixings for a sandwich."

As they went about making their lunches, Percy eyed his brother, noting how calm Bill looked.

"You seem well, even with a baby coming. You're not nervous?"

"Oh, I'm bloody nervous, but I'm also happy," Bill replied, taking a bite of pastrami on rye. "Can't wait for the little tyke to get here! We'd been trying for a while, you know?"

"Really?

"Mmhmm," Bill mumbled with his mouth full. "Since the war ended. Honestly, the timing couldn't be better right now. With the goblins quiet at long last, I can feel safe at work, and most of the Death Eaters are gone. It's a perfect time to be happy with a baby."

Percy munched delicately at his ham sandwich. "I'm impressed."

"Coming from you, that's a big compliment," Bill said, smirking. "How are you holding up, by the way? Things seem to be going great for you, especially in the Audrey department."

Percy ducked his head. "Yes, well… I'm very lucky."

"You are lucky. She's an awesome girl. You going to propose to her anytime soon?"

Percy choked a bit on his food. "Erm…I don't know." He hesitated, and then added, "Should I?"

Bill blinked at him. "Should you? What kind of question is that? It's either a yes or no."

"How about…maybe?"

"What're your doubts?"

Percy let out a breath. "Well…we haven't even been together for a year."

"So? The amount of time doesn't matter. It just has to feel right. Wait, is this because of Mum? And of course I'm only making things worse by asking, you poor sot." Bill patted Percy's shoulder as he went to lounge at the kitchen table. "So, has Mum set her sights on you yet?"

"A bit, yes."

Bill scoffed. "Just wait until you have a kid. You'll never be rid of her." He dropped his grin to assume a more serious expression. "Listen, I know Mum can be bloody barmy sometimes, but that's just who she is. Unless…it's not just Mum?"

Percy smiled faintly. "Am I really so transparent?"

"Everything's written on your face, little brother. Are you in a fight with Audrey?"

Percy slumped at the table. "Sort of? I guess…I'm just irritated."

"Irritated?" Bill repeated. "In what way?"

"She keeps saying I need to take care of myself more. Do something for _me_ instead of other people. Which seems ridiculous!"

"Hmm…it's almost like a code," Bill mused. "Women can be awfully cryptic sometimes. Especially if they're French." He sat forward, resting his hands on the table. "But if I had to guess, she wants you to be happy doing something for yourself. When's the last time you did anything for you?"

Percy sighed and began to list things with his fingers. "Let's see… I ate breakfast this morning, I went to bed early last night and slept for a full ten hours..."

Bill rolled his eyes. "Alright, I understand where she's coming from. Things you've done, not for your physical self, but your mental self. When's the last time you did something fun, something you love?"

"Erm…I went to work?"

Bill's face was amused. "Really, Perce? I guess I should've expected that. Okay…how to put this… When's the last time you did something fun only for you, for the benefit of your emotional state?"

Percy raised his eyebrow. "Have you been chatting with my healer?"

Bill blew out a laughing breath. "Hey, I'm using this as practice for being a good dad! Who knows when I'll next need to dissect my child's innermost subconscious?"

Percy snorted. "Right."

"But seriously, what about a trip? Go somewhere and clear your head, have fun."

"A trip?"

"Yeah, to somewhere you've never been. And be spontaneous about it."

"Spontaneous?" Percy repeated dubiously.

"Sure. Try it and see what happens."

"Now you sound like Charlie."

Bill chuckled. "Well, he's certainly living his life and enjoying every moment he's not burned to a crisp or bitten in half."

"Your point?"

"My point is—" Bill started, but he was interrupted by a gust from the fireplace in the shape of George. "George?"

"Hey Bill. Was hoping you'd be around," George said, coming to the table. "Oh, hi Percy." He slapped something on the table that appeared to be a black dot made of some odd felt-like material.

"What're you doing?" Bill asked, peering at his brother and the dot suspiciously.

"Just…experimenting."

"George, I swear, if you blow up this house…" Bill said, rising to his feet.

George held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Calm down. I wouldn't blow anything up. It's me, remember?"

Bill's eyebrows shot up. "Oh yes, I remember! I used to babysit you, you know! Which is why I'm concerned!" He moved to grab his brother, but George side-stepped him and went to the fireplace.

"Resume your conversation! I'm just testing it!" he said, grabbing some Floo Powder off the mantle and shouting, "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!"

Bill turned to Percy, his expression annoyed. "Do you know what he's doing?"

"Not a clue."

"Great. Just great. Sometimes this family…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"Perhaps I should leave?" Percy said, and Bill held up his hands.

"No, no, that's not what I meant. Stay. Now what were we talking about?"

"A trip."

"Right. Where do you want to go?"

"I…haven't thought of anything."

"Well, do you want to stay in the UK?" Bill asked.

"I—" Percy started, but George burst through the fireplace again, interrupting him.

"It works!" George declared, running into the kitchen and posing. "Okay, do you notice anything different about me?"

His brothers stared at him, and Percy cocked his head.

"Wait…you have both ears." As soon as Percy said it, Bill leaned it to peer closely.

"Bloody hell, how'd that happen?"

"Just something I've been working on," George said. "It's a modification of Extendable Ears, though I can pick up conversations much further away."

Something clicked in Bill's mind and he went to the table. "The black dot," he said in understanding, prying it off and holding it up.

"You've got me," George said, grinning.

"So this is what you've been working on while Angelina's away?" Percy asked.

George's expression soured. "Yes, alright? But what do you think?"

"Of your new ear?" Bill said, to which George nodded. "I think it's…great, but you're turning into a bloody spy!" He pretended to crush the black dot in his fist.

"Oi, that's a prototype! And what do you think I was going to give you for the shower? Honestly, Bill, this could help you hear the baby."

Bill blinked. "Oh. Well when you put it like that…" He abruptly shook his head. "I'll talk to Fleur, but there better not be _any _of these things left in the house or I swear…" He walked over to George and handed him the dot.

"Fair enough," George said, pocketing his product. "So, what were you two talking about? A trip for Percy?"

"I suggested that he go away, just to have some fun."

"Bill, you do realize you're talking to Percy, here."

Bill sighed. "Yes, I did realize that the hard way."

"I'm standing right here," Percy reminded them, causing both of them to grin.

"Well you should do it. Go away for the holidays and take your lovely lady with you," George said.

"But where would I go? What would I do? What about work?"

"That's why it's called _holidays_, Perce. Go out and celebrate!"

Percy huffed. "But—"

"No buts!" George said.

"Well, at least think about it. Talk to Audrey. See what she thinks. It could be just what you need," Bill said. "Now since you're both here, you're going to help me finish the nursery before Fleur gets home!"

* * *

><p>The holidays came and went, and for George, almost every moment felt miserable for one reason or another. He was glad that he was actually aware of the holiday season this year, but at every turn, it seemed that he was reminded of the past or the future or even the present, where people were enjoying their lives more than him. He could hear Angelina's words in his mind and knew he was just being selfish, and that grousing around wasn't going to get him anywhere, but he couldn't help but feel alone during these times when couples were so widely broadcast. His family and friends tried to help by inviting him to things, but the parties and celebrations only served to reinforce his loneliness and bitterness.<p>

The worst part was that George didn't have to be alone. If he had been smart enough, he could've invited Katie to attend these events with him as mates, like he had at the Yule Ball, but before he even thought of it, she had already paired up with a shockingly pleasant fellow by the name of Nathaniel. And then, before he could even blink, his second choice was paired up too!

Second choice? Or had Angelina been his first? Sure, she had already stood at his side at a number of functions for the family and the shop. But what did it matter now, when she was seeing some right arsehole named Reese something-or-other, with his smug expression and suave disturbingly Malfoy-like blond hair. George hated him the moment he met him, and felt absolutely no remorse when he decided to test a new product on the man. It was worth Angelina's fury when his Condiment Calamities sprayed ketchup and mustard out of Reese's prissy ears to splat in beautiful patterns on the walls. All of his other mates had roared with laughter, all except Angelina, who would've killed George on the spot with her glare if that were only possible.

The next day at work had been tense between them, and she had erupted at him, demanding to know what his problem was.

"The guy's name is _Reese_. What kind of name is that?" George had responded, and Angelina's face had grown livid. Then George had pressed her last button. "And I think he's taking slick lessons from the Malfoys. Did you see the way his hair was smoothed back? Are you sure he's not learning styling tips from Death Eaters?" Angelina had exploded in a rage that knocked several shelves over, shattered bottles, destroyed products, and splashed the room with potions. It had been one hell of a mess to clean up by himself, as Ron had shaken his head and left, and George had discovered the hard way that some of his products had nasty side effects when combined (the floor would never quite look the same, not with some patches missing when acid-like substances dissolved them). Not to mention the pulverized displays, and the amount of time it was going to take for George to restock everything. George should've felt regret and anger that he was stuck cleaning up, by himself no less, but instead, a smooth warm satisfaction burst in him, as if justice had been fairly dealt. He was so satisfied that he spent the next day cleaning up the shop, whistling cheerfully the entire time.

It wasn't until that night that it occurred to George how strange a reaction that was. As he pondered his behavior, it scarily reminded him of Percy's odd mood swings and mannerisms when he was at his lowest point. Was George headed in the same direction, though perhaps in a more gleefully vindictive way? Once, a long time ago, he might've been excited to experience life in such a way, but now it just felt…wrong. He loved making mischief, but not when someone else was hurt by it. What he did was mostly harmless…right? Suddenly George found himself questioning every decision he had made since Fred's death. Was he doing the right thing now, with the shop? What about his family? Were they really alright? It wasn't like he had been paying much attention to them lately, so consumed was he in his own admittedly profitable business endeavors.

Merlin, he wished he had someone to talk to right now. Loneliness stabbed him, right where it ached in the hollow of his chest, and he forcibly resisted the impulse to sink to the floor in tears, though he couldn't deny that a large part of him wanted to do just that. If only someone were around… But he had already bothered Bill enough, and the man was spending all his free time either fixing up the house or working overtime at the bank. Charlie was Merlin knew where, and barely sent letters. Percy was traveling with Audrey for the New Year as Bill had suggested, and even though they were only doing a tour of the UK, George was loathe to disturb them when his brother was finally starting to stand on his own two feet again. Then there was Ron…but would his little brother really understand? Besides, he was undoubtedly with Hermione, as Ginny was undoubtedly with Harry. That left his parents, and George just couldn't bring himself to dampen their recent good humor with his own depression.

If only he had something to look forward to. Percy had been hoarding the Checklist, promising a new goal for George to cross off, but it had been weeks and George was starting to give up hope that his brother would think of anything. After all, didn't George have the perfect life? He was mostly sane, his business was booming, he had plenty of mates, he was healthy, and his family was getting better all the time. What more could he need?

The silence of the closed shop was deafening. Lazily George flicked his wand, and some of the repaired displays began yammering away again, filling the space with empty noise that almost fooled George into believing that he wasn't alone. What more _could _he need? Wasn't this all he had ever wanted? But in his youthful visions of the future he had never imagined being alone. It had always been Fred, and now it was just him and a pissed-off Angelina…

George stopped short. Something in his brain zapped and circuits connected to bring him to a startling realization.

Angelina. _Angelina_. She had been there with him for _months_, close to a year now, and yet he kept complaining that he was alone! What was wrong with him? Then another thought hit him like a Stunning Spell. Was he…_jealous_ of Reese? Is that why he hated the bloke? Because he was jealous that Angelina had chosen someone like _him_ over George? But that meant…that meant that George _liked_ her. That meant that he wanted to be _with_ her. But…no…she was just his mate, wasn't she? _Wasn't she?_

George closed his eyes and sank to the floor. _Bloody hell_ he had been an idiot. How long had she been giving him signals and he just ignored them? All those times she had tagged along with him, all those secret meetings they had had to plan the future of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. All those hours of being the only two in the shop, making the merchandise, restocking the shelves, greeting customers, laughing as they played pranks on each other. Angelina had put her heart and soul into the store, was as deep into it as George himself, and somehow he hadn't _noticed_. She had started out being his mate, but then their relationship had changed, oh Merlin it had changed, and George was just too bloody _thick_ to have seen it, to have realized the subtle differences in her body language and voice when she looked at him. Angelina had actually _liked him back_ and because of his stupidity, his obliviousness, she was with some other bloke! And not just any bloke, but a prickly arsehole in human skin! Gods, how could he have been so _stupid_ to let that happen?

George covered his face with his hands, wallowing in his self-pity, berating himself for every mistake, when he heard a distinct 'pop!' and then someone was rattling the doorknob and entering the store. George knew it was someone the store recognized, as the door let the person inside, and he just wanted to shrink into himself. He prayed that whoever it was had simply forgotten something and would just leave without noticing his shriveled self on the floor in the middle aisle. But then the person spoke, and George desperately wished he had an Invisibility Cloak.

"I guess you got it all cleaned up then," mused the voice, and George felt that stab again – a slightly different stab that was aimed directly at his heart, for it was, of course, Angelina. Oh, the fates were unkind! Merlin he did _not _want to have this confrontation right now. He desperately willed her to leave, but it was his misfortune that she wanted to inspect the place and make sure it was ready to re-open _at this very moment when he was there_. This was not serendipitous, and this was not a pleasant coincidence. George felt bile rising in the back of his throat.

That was the mindset he was in when she found him, hunched over in the middle aisle, painfully curled into himself.

Her brown eyes were shocked when she saw him. "George? Are you—?" But the moment the words exited her mouth, she seemed to remember that she was still furious with him, and fire returned to her eyes. "What are you doing?" she demanded. "Exhausted from cleaning up? Because I hope you are!"

George just bleakly shook his head.

"No? Then what's wrong? Oh wait, I get it. This is supposed to be a prank. Make me feel sorry for you. I shouldn't, you know. You were terrible to Reese, and he didn't deserve it."

When George didn't argue, Angelina's eyebrows furrowed and her expression morphed into one of suspicion mixed with concern.

"George, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

George shook his head and then tried to nod before inhaling a shaky breath and blurting out, "I'm in love with you."

Angelina froze and her eyes widened. "What?" she breathed, clearly not believing she had heard right. "You're joking, right?"

George just sighed miserably. "I think I'm in love with you. And…I don't…" he trailed off, having no idea what to say to make up for everything.

"You're…" she started unsurely, and then an almost hysterical laugh bubbled out of her mouth. "Really? You're… With _me_? Now? After…" She shook her head, a bitter smile on her lips. "Well, the timing's… You're a bloody _git_ you know that?"

George grimaced and nodded.

"Do you know how long I waited for you? And here I gave up, but…after everything you're still one lucky bastard."

George stared at her. "What?"

Angelina smiled cynically. "I just ended it with Reese."

George blinked stupidly. "What?"

She took one look at him and threw up her hands. "Ugh, why did I even come here?" She walked over to loom above him. "Honestly, what was I expecting? Certainly not you…_saying _that! You really are one lucky bastard! I was ready to rip you a new one, but there you are, being pathetic on the floor with those puppy eyes. Merlin, I can't believe you! You are the most infuriating, selfish, idiotic, insane…! I don't understand what Audrey and Fleur and Hermione see in you Weasley men! All of you are so bloody _thick_ and here I thought you might be different but no, of course not, you're bloody married to the shop and Angelina's just your mate!"

George watched her tirade in growing horror, not understanding what was happening or where she was going with this. With her increasing fervor and frantic hand gestures, he could only assume she would blot out of his very life, leaving only the smallest stain on the floor.

Angelina finally glanced at him and rolled her eyes. "Get off the floor!" she yelled, and George jerkily obeyed, afraid for his life if he refused. Staring into her eyes, he saw her face soften and her fury slowly leave her, replaced instead by a mask of uncertainty and, dare he say it, a lingering, yearning hope that was nearly extinguished.

"Do you really mean what you said?" she asked quietly, and George was ashamed of the vulnerability in her stance and expression. He forced himself to straighten as he approached her and awkwardly grabbed for her hands. He missed the first few times, but when he finally grasped them, he remembered all the times he had held them before, like when he was showing her the correct wand movements, or slapping five after Quidditch matches. They felt warm and were slightly trembling this time, and he didn't know what to do with his fingers so he just held her.

"Yes," he said, working his jaw. "I think I'm in love with you."

She raised her eyebrows. "You _think_ you are, but you're not sure?"

"Erm…no. I am sure."

"There was some hesitation."

George huffed, glaring into her amused eyes. "Fine. I'm sure. I'm in love with you."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And you're a prat. And a git. And an arsehole. And a—"

"I'm not saying that," George cut her off. "Merlin, I'm trying to be serious here!"

"So am I!" Angelina said indignantly.

"No, you're messing with me."

"Playing with your feelings? It hurts doesn't it."

George narrowed his eyes. "You're an evil woman, you know that?"

"Oh, so now you're calling me evil? Shall I add that to your list of grievances? Let's see, first there was your complete lack of awareness of anything but yourself. Second was that—" But she was cut off when George pressed his lips to hers. Her response was so enthusiastic that George was slammed back into the shelves, feeling their hard edges dig into his spine.

"Ow!" he moaned, breaking away. He glared at her, utterly shocked at her mood change. But he was distracted when he noticed that her eyes were filled with a lust and passion that were starting to turn him on. "Oh Merlin," he breathed.

Angelina's lips quirked. "Get used to it. I've been told I'm a fiery lover."

"Fiery?" George all but squeaked before she was snogging him again and he barely had time to breathe. "Who told you that?" he gasped when they paused for air, a frown on his face. "Was it Reese?"

Angelina rolled her eyes. "Gods no. We barely kissed. He had a thing about physical contact."

"Oh," George said, abruptly finding it hard to pay attention to their conversation.

She smirked at him. "Shall we go somewhere more private?"

"What? I thought you were mad?" George panted, utterly confused.

"I am. But I also have some other ideas of what I want to do right now," Angelina said, licking her lips.

"You're insane," George said.

Angelina leaned up and whispered into his ear. "Get used to it. Now let's go."

George blinked and shook his head, deciding he no longer cared. He bent to snog her again, lifting her off her feet and into his arms.

"Well, I do know of one place. Good thing the owner lives here," he said breathlessly as she clung to him, whooping as he climbed the stairs.

"Good thing we have all night," Angelina replied, grinning mischievously.

* * *

><p><em>AN: HURRAY they're finally together! And it only took a little less than two years (both for the characters and the time in their world, and the actual time it took me to write and post this story, haha!) Honestly, I dislike fics that have George almost immediately pair up with Angelina after DH. How does that make any sense? He doesn't know how to live ALONE so how can he possibly know how to live alone AND be in a relationship? He would be so full of grief (at least in my mind) that any kind of relationship that early would just be toxic, and probably only physical to be used as a distraction for his pain..._

_Well, as you can see I do like to think things through, though this is a very silly chapter! At least the romantic bit is, haha! I'm SUCH a sucker for these kinds of scenes, and I know it's written like a bloody romantic comedy! I TRIED to make it seem consistent with their characters, but I really wanted to have Angelina just WANT George, you know? A woman with a healthy sex drive, am I right? And yes, she's a bit crazy, but that's kind of who she is, haha! Eh whatever, I had fun writing the scene! ;P  
><em>


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

George stirred awake, a smile playing on his lips as hazy snatches of dreams clung to his mind. But something felt different. The images were getting clearer, sharper, almost like they were…memories. Wait…how was that possible?

As he became more aware of himself, he felt a presence beside him, radiating delicious warmth. He could hear her breathing, and the sound filled the gaping silence he had barely become accustomed to over the months and years of living alone. It struck a chord of nostalgia in him, and George had to check with his eyes that Angelina was really there, and not just his imagination come to life. It seemed too impossible to be true, and yet as he stared, Angelina released a breath and opened her eyes, grinning demurely at him.

"What?"

"You're really here. Last night…really happened."

"Oh? Something wrong with that?"

George shook his head, laughing. "No. I just can't believe you bloody _jumped_ me."

"But you liked it. Obviously."

George snorted. "Well _yeah_. I mean…_wow_. A fiery lover…bloody hell!"

Angelina grimaced. "Merlin, did I really say that? Ugh…I was just…horny out of my mind."

"Obviously."

She glanced at him, smirking. "You really are one lucky bastard. I was half convinced you arranged it all, it was so perfectly timed."

"Who said I didn't? I am brilliant you know," he said, waggling his eyebrows. She slapped his bare chest.

"Brilliant enough to not catch any of my signals or hints? I wasn't exactly subtle about it. What do you have to say about that?"

George shrugged. "Dunno. Guess…I just had too much on my mind. Because I'm brilliant like that, you know. I think a lot. All the time. Using my brain power."

Angelina rolled her eyes and mimed suffocating herself with the pillow. "Bloody hell, spare me your awesome and mighty intelligence, oh superior one! Or this might become rather infrequent." She gestured to their situation in the bed and George just gave her a look.

"Yeah right. Like you can stay away. You want it just as bad. Maybe even more."

Angelina slowly quirked a lazy smile. "True enough. I'll just have to find other ways to get back at you, then."

He placed his palms on his cheeks and opened his mouth in mocking horror. "I'm terrified!"

"You should be!" she said, and before he could react, she lifting her head and snogged him breathless. They were about to get into more serious things when they heard a slam and then a voice drifting up from downstairs.

"George! Hey George! Where are you? Are you even up yet?"

Angelina's eyes widened as they jerked apart. "Is that _Ron_?"

George looked equally startled before his face grimaced in understanding. "Oh, yeah… I asked him to come in early because I didn't think I'd have the place ready… Bloody hell!" He froze for a moment, calculating, and then stood up. "I'll get rid of him so we can…finish up."

Angelina snorted. "You speak so elegantly, I'm completely smitten."

"Since when do you use such big words?" George said, ducking as Angelina threw her pillow at him.

"Arsehole! Go get rid of your brother already!"

"George? Hey, is there someone up there with you?"

George hurried onto the landing and stared down into the shop where Ron was standing, looking confused.

"Oh hey Geor _– bloody hell why aren't you wearing pants_?" Ron gagged, making retching noises as he turned away looking very green.

George glanced down at himself. "Oh. Whoops." Behind him he heard Angelina cackling, and he posed ridiculously, amused by Angelina's laughter and his younger brother's repulsion.

Ron was shielding his eyes and determinedly looking in the opposite direction.

"Can you just put on some pants please?" He squeezed his eyes shut. "Or at least tell me a spell that can wipe my memory?"

"I can do neither until you come back in an hour," George said. "I'm busy at the moment."

Ron grimaced. "I hope she's worth it. Bloody, sodding hell…"

"Worth it? My dear brother, I'm sleeping with a goddess."

Ron's face actually looked pained. "Please, no more? Merlin, you're as bad as Percy! I don't want to hear it!"

"Hey Ron," Angelina said, coming to stand behind George, wrapped in a sheet. Ron cautiously looked up at her, blocking out George with his hand.

"Angelina? So you two are—?"

She grinned. "Mmhmm."

"Finally!"

George glanced back and forth between them. "Finally? Holy Merlin, even _Ron_ knew?" He looked stricken as he added, "You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Not a chance in hell. Oh and Ron? We'll be ready in a half hour."

"I told him an hour," George cut in.

Angelina appraised him for a moment. "Yeah, I don't think so. See you later, Ron!" She waved to Ron who couldn't have left the shop faster if he was Disapparating. Angelina grabbed George's hand and pulled him back to the bedroom, falling onto the bed. "Now where were we?"

* * *

><p>Percy was at the Burrow, trying to settle himself in a chair by the fireplace. It was the end of January, and the family was recovering from an announcement that Ron and Harry were moving into a flat together. As they had both said, it was long overdue, and it had only been Harry's hectic schedule that kept them from finding the best place. Now in the other room, the family was enthusiastically making plans to help them move or give them ideas on where to buy furniture. Percy was happy for them, even the unspoken knowledge that Hermione and Ginny would be partially living there as well. It was good news on top of more good news, though the joyous atmosphere was a little too much for him, and he had snuck away for some peace and quiet to think.<p>

As he warmed his hands, Percy couldn't help but worry that the pressure would soon be on him. Without Audrey to be his distraction this evening, as she was out celebrating her friend's birthday, all he could do was commiserate on his circumstances. Sure, his mum was hysterical now that her baby boy was leaving the home, but her attention would soon be back on Percy, and with Bill and Fleur's baby not due to arrive for several months, the whole family would fixate on him and—

Percy jumped when a hand fell on his shoulder.

"Merlin, you look peaky even next to the fire. Sure you're not ill?" Ginny questioned, sliding into a seat beside him. She glanced at him and Percy was ashamed at the genuine concern in her eyes.

"I'm fine."

"No you're not. You're fretting."

"I'm not…fretting."

She raised her eyebrows at him and he sighed.

"I assure you, I'm quite well."

"Right. You know I can see right through you? If you're in a bad spot again—"

"No, honestly, it's not anything health-wise. I'm just…worried."

Ginny let out a small sigh of relief before frowning at him. "Worried about what? I know in your universe there's probably loads to worry about, but what exactly is bothering you now?"

"Well…there's no easy way to put it…"

"Is it Mum?" she said flatly, and Percy was shocked.

"How did you know?"

"I'm pretty good at guessing, and Mum certainly has…the ability to make some situations more…tense than they need to be. I mean, have you seen Bill lately? She's been stopping over Shell Cottage almost daily, and I knew Fleur's going bloody barmy."

"Precisely!" Percy said. "Don't you see? Mum won't stop with just one grandchild! Once the baby comes, she'll expect the rest of us to get married and start having children! And who's next after Bill and Fleur? Charlie's not had anyone, as far as we know, so of course she'll set her sights on…on…"

"Ah, I see," Ginny said, nodding. "I'll admit that that _does _make sense, so you're not completely off your rocker."

"Thank you for that most lovely compliment," he said dryly.

Ginny shoved him affectionately. "Come on now, you can't let Mum pressure you! Actually, you can't let anyone pressure you. Your relationship is yours, and you can do with it what _you _want."

Percy appraised his sister with a side glance. "You're a wise girl…erm…woman."

"Thanks, Percy," she said, smiled in amusement. "I've learned a lot watching all of you. And dealing with Harry…that's a whole other thing!"

"How is that?"

"It's good. Really. Sometimes it's hard though." Her face fell. "He goes on missions and I'm left to worry… All I can say is thank Merlin for Quidditch! Maybe you should find some sort of physical outlet?"

Percy's expression was skeptical. "I'm not one for…physical activity, certainly not sports of any kind."

Ginny grinned. "That's true! Well, don't worry about things. They'll happen if they happen, you know? You shouldn't fixate on anything. And hey, if things don't work out with Audrey, you'll find someone else. You're…pretty great, Percy."

"What do you mean it might not work out with Audrey?" he asked hurriedly.

She rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant! I was just saying— Wait, what's wrong?"

Percy's face had paled even further. "Nothing, except…I really want things to work with Audrey. I want to get married, and have children. We've discussed it, even, but just…hypothetically."

"Then what's the problem?"

Percy opened his mouth but couldn't bring himself to speak. Ginny leaned into him and squeezed his arm.

"Percy, she's a great person. I don't know her _that_ well, but from what I've seen I can't imagine she'd flat out reject you. I mean, she did survive a whole holiday with you! I heard you lot went to a bunch of museums and I know how you are in museums, wanting to read everything and take bloody forever! If Audrey can stick with you after that, I can't see there being a problem!"

"You're right. You _don't_ know her very well," he said curtly, standing up.

"Percy!" Ginny huffed. "If you're really so worried, just _talk _to her! Don't keep this all bottled up or you'll go mad!"

But Percy had brushed her aside to make way for the kitchen, where he needed something to warm his belly – not alcohol, thankfully, but perhaps some tea. With most of the family still lingering in the dining room, talking to both Harry and Ron, Percy thought he would be alone, but when he stepped into the kitchen, he walked straight into George and Angelina, who were fiercely snogging.

Percy grimaced. He was happy for George of course, but this was just obscene! Thankfully, the couple broke apart when Percy entered, though they were both breathless and had dopey loving expressions on their faces. Percy shouldered around them to get to the kettle.

"Oi, watch it!" George said as their elbows bumped.

"Well excuse me, but you shouldn't be standing so near to the stove anyways," Percy snapped.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Should I leave you two alone?" Angelina asked, but Percy held up his hand.

"No, I'm fine. I'm just going to make some tea and head home. Better yet, I should probably just go home and make tea there."

"Percy," George called after him as he headed out of the kitchen, but Percy ignored him. Inserting some quick farewells to his family, most of whom barely nodded their heads to acknowledge that they heard him, Percy stepped into the fireplace and returned to his flat.

* * *

><p>The first few weeks with Angelina were absolute bliss for George, who hadn't felt so happy and satisfied since Fred died. Of course, a lot of that was because they were very adamant on fulfilling the more…physically demanding aspects of their relationship. George loved getting to know every inch of Angelina, but as time went on, the endless snogging and shagging seemed to get excessive – even for him, and Angelina had woken in him the same passionate, voracious appetite.<p>

But they didn't talk much. At least, they didn't talk much about themselves or their lives. They talked constantly about work and the shop's expansion into the old Zonko's, which was finally getting underway. They talked about hiring new employees, or expanding the storeroom to accommodate more of their products. They talked about new product ideas, better business plans, catchier logo designs, and more efficient floor space. But never once did George hear anything more than a quick sentence about how Angelina's family was doing, or how she was feeling. Even when they argued it was just about work!

The more he thought about it, the stranger it was. Weren't young blokes like him supposed to be happy in this kind of relationship? Isn't this what every guy wanted?

Something felt wrong, though, and every time George watched the other couples in his family, a stab of jealousy would pierce his gut. He wanted something more, something beyond the shallow feeling of just having someone there to chase away his loneliness. George had never been in a real relationship before, and freely admitted to himself that he had no idea what he was doing. That didn't stop him from wondering if things could be different, though. He knew Angelina had had a crush on him back when he was oblivious to that sort of thing, and he couldn't help but question whether this was what _she_ had really intended or wanted. There was a crush, and then there was lust. Which was it?

George could finally understand Percy's reluctance with Audrey, as George was afraid to speak to Angelina and scare her away, leaving him alone again. He had grown dangerously dependent on sleeping beside her and waking beside her, and didn't know if he could train himself to be single again… But he couldn't keep letting this go on, could he? For Merlin's sake, they hadn't even been on a proper date!

One night, when Angelina was poring over the budget in his flat, George hovered in the doorway and inhaled a bracing breath.

"Hey Ange?"

"Mm?" she murmured, not even turning around in the desk chair.

"Can I…talk to you?"

"Mm."

"No, really, I mean…we need to talk."

At the serious tone, she finally stopped what she was doing and look at George. "What? George, is something wrong?"

George hesitated. "No, I mean…sort of. I guess…I'm just wondering…where we're going with…us."

Angelina blinked at him. "What do you mean? Are you—?"

"No!" George cut in. "I just want to talk. I mean…I love you, Ange, but I still feel like I barely know you. We don't really…talk."

"But we talk all the time."

"But…not about anything big or important."

"So the shop's not important?" she asked.

"No, no, not like that… Merlin, I'm bad at this… I just…I want to be with you. Not just shag all the time, but…you know, like a proper boyfriend-girlfriend situation."

She arched an eyebrow. "A proper boyfriend-girlfriend situation?"

George dragged a hand down his face. "Come on, help me out here! You know what I'm getting at!"

Angelina sighed deeply and lowered her gaze. "Alright, fine. I…I do get what you're saying. But I don't know what you want me to do about it."

"Just…talk to me, you know?" George said imploringly, sitting on the edge of his bed so he could face her. "Please Ange, just talk to me. You can say anything. Like…Quidditch! We saw Ginny play a few weeks ago and you seemed happy but I could tell you were upset… Are you even still going to try out for the Harpies again?"

Angelina blinked, and George saw that she was fighting back her emotions.

"You can let it out," he insisted.

She scoffed. "Right. Let it out. Especially to you, you who's famous for knowing how to deal with emotions!"

"What does that mean?" George shot back, hurt.

"It means that I don't know how long this 'perfect' life is going to last, alright?" she spat. "Every time I've been bloody happy, there's always something that happens that just…ruins everything!" She shook her head. "What was I thinking, falling for you? How do I know you're going to still be here?"

"_What_?"

"You're unstable, George. I see it all the bloody time! You're happy one day, and depressed the next, and no matter what I do or what I say, I can't bloody pull you out of that pit of despair you've created for yourself! You want me to talk to you more? How do I know what I say won't pitch you over the edge?"

George worked his jaw. "Oh, come off it! I'm better than that! I'm not some bloody loony! I've been good for over a year—"

"And what'll happen in a few months when your birthday comes again? Or the anniversary? Or any other holiday or family traditions that'll remind you of him?"

George felt frustrated tears welling in his own eyes. "It's not a bloody competition between you two! I want you, Angelina! Why can't you get that?"

"Because it hurts me!" she yelled, rising. "It hurts me to see you in so much pain and I can't do anything about it!"

"What do you want me to do? He was my _twin_! You think I'm just going to get over it like that? You and I both know it's not that easy!" He approached her and grabbed her arms. They stood for a moment, just breathing and calming down. Finally, George spoke. "But you know I wish I could get over it like that. You know I just want to be with you. I'd do anything…"

Angelina leaned into his chest. "I don't want to burden you. You're already dealing with so much that I can't even try to understand."

George pulled her close to him. "It's been almost two years, Ange. I'm still dealing with it, but it's not controlling me anywhere. I'm not some fragile thing that's going to break. I can handle anything you want to say."

"You're not going to break? You did once. For _months_."

George swallowed hard. "I'm not going to let that happen again." He pulled away so he could stare into her eyes. "I mean it. I'm not going back there. I promised myself, and I'm promising you now. I won't. You've got to believe me. Please."

Angelina gazed back up at him, and he could see that she was still hesitant.

"Ange, please. I need you. I love you."

She squeezed her eyes shut and drew in a shaky breath. Releasing it, she smiled and opened her eyes. "Okay. I'm going to trust you. You'd better keep your promise, or I'll kick your arse."

George gave a teary grin. "I expect nothing less. And…we should go on a proper date. What do you say? The Golden Snidget?"

"Ooh, fancy," she teased before growing serious again. "George…I need you, too. And I love you. Really." She stood on her tiptoes to snog him, and though it was lacking their usual vigor, it was the sweetest and most loving kiss he had experienced. It warmed him to his very core and he didn't want to let her go, but he forced himself to. He could feel her questioning gaze.

"It's almost March. Are you trying out for the Harpies or what?"

"I guess we're going to start talking now?" she said with a hint of amusement. They sank onto the bed and just lay next to each other, staring at the ceiling.

"Yes. Well?"

"Well…I've decided not to."

George turned over to look at her. "Really? Why?"

She shrugged and similarly shifted to face him, her breaths mingling with his on the spell-enlarged bed. "Because I've found something that makes me even happier and better yet, that I'm really good at doing. I love the shop more than Quidditch."

"That's blasphemy, but I suppose I'll forgive you."

She whacked him. "I'm being serious!"

He just grinned. "I know. And I'm happy. So how's your family feel about that? Do they know yet? I never really learned if they care that you work at a joke shop to make your living."

Angelina opened her mouth and answered, and the conversation flowed for hours as they lay facing each other, divulging secrets and emotions and desires.

George had thought he was happy before, but he had been wrong.

_This_ was true happiness.

* * *

><p><em>AN:Who loved the scene where George talks to Ron while completely naked? Haha, I just love messing with Ron and I love writing comedy!  
><em>

_I freely admit I had no idea where I was going with George and Angelina, but then their argument kind of...created itself, and I was shocked and pleased at how legitimate it sounded! Especially coming from someone like me, who's not had too much experience with relationships...  
><em>

_Oh my boys... I have a strong fondness for Percy and George now, and it's been a fun seeing how they grow and mature! It's especially poignant because I'm in the middle of writing the last chapter! There will be two left - a chapter and an epilogue - and I'm preparing myself for the last scene, which I know I'll cry writing!  
><em>

_Thanks for reading as always, my loves!  
><em>


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

It was hard to believe that May 2nd was approaching again. Percy certainly couldn't understand how time had gone by so quickly. There was an odd time lapse, where it seemed like Fred had died only days ago, but at the same time it felt like ages had past. Percy had done so much since then. He had started a new job and learned to excel at it, and he had brought George back from the brink of self-destruction. He had made friends with his co-workers, and actually spent time with them outside of work. He had met Audrey, and their relationship had never been smoother. They were both non-confrontational, and what they called 'arguments,' others would call calm discussions. They were extremely compatible and anticipated each other's needs, so neither of them went wanting. But was it too good to be true?

Percy hated the anniversary because it seemed to amplify all of his other problems. He dreaded having to face the family, where no one could pretend that everything was alright and try to hide beneath masks. Though that meant Percy could get away with his other 'fretting' as Ginny called it, he knew he would still look the most agitated, and the family would guess that it wasn't just Fred's death on his mind.

Thankfully, there were other, happier preparations going on, like the arrival of Bill and Fleur's baby. The pregnancy had had a few rough patches, but both mother and child were healthy, and that was all that mattered. No one knew the sex of the baby, as Bill and Fleur wanted it to be a surprise. That had of course driven their mum up the wall, as she debated what colors to knit. Her final creations ended up being a kaleidoscope of colors and patterns that no child, boy or girl, would ever like to wear (though they had little choice in the matter). Percy had been impressed with the reactions of the soon-to-be parents when they opened the gift. They had learned to control their facial expressions and voices well, and it was only Fleur's twitching eyebrow that gave away how shocked they were at the blinding color combinations. Percy secretly hoped this wasn't his mum's new 'thing,' as he rather enjoyed her plainer sweaters…

Percy grinned faintly to himself as he adjusted his robes. He was getting ready for the annual gathering at Hogwarts to commemorate those who died in service of the school and the Wizarding World. Last year's occasion had been solemn and painful, but with the baby on the way, perhaps the family would be a bit more lighthearted and hopeful of the future this time. After all, the new addition to their family would grow up in a world without Voldemort. Especially now with the Aurors chasing back new Death Eater resurgences, it looked like the world would finally be at peace.

"What are you so happy about, smiling over there?" Audrey asked him as she swept into his bedroom.

Startled, his smile dropped from his face. "Oh, you're here already! I thought you might need more time to get ready—"

"Please! I don't take that long," she said. "So really, what were you smiling about? I'm glad to see you smiling, especially on a difficult day like today." She peered at him curiously.

"Erm…it was nothing, really. Just excitement for the new baby, growing up in a better world."

Audrey nodded. "Ah, that's true." She smiled at him, but he was distracted again by an errant thought.

Babies growing up in a better world. Percy had always wanted to be a father. Perhaps it had something to do with his superiority complex, or the fact that he knew he would love his children and give them the best possible lives that he could – lives far superior to his own. He had first visualized this dream coming true with Penelope, and lately, he had been thinking of Audrey in her place. What would they look like as parents?

But no, he was getting too ahead of himself, wasn't he? He couldn't even be sure she would _marry_ him, let alone have his children!

"Percy, what's wrong?" Audrey asked, and Percy realized he had let his mask drop, revealing the distressing turmoil of his innermost thoughts. Glancing up at her, he saw her assume the expression he had seen increasingly over these past few months. It was a look that was a mixture of concern and frustration, and he guessed what she was going to say before she said it.

"Percy, why won't you tell me what's wrong? I know you're hiding something," she said, standing before him and staring up into his eyes. She was pleading with him, but he knew it was just the part of her that liked fixing things that were broken. This wasn't something that was broken and she couldn't fix it, because if she knew what it was, she might decide it wasn't worth it.

"It's nothing." He looked away guiltily and Audrey put her hands on her hips.

"Percival Ignatius Weasley. I swear! Whatever it is, you can tell me! Just stop…beating yourself up about it! I want to help you." She placed her hands on his cheeks and he leaned his head forward until their foreheads were touching.

"It's…it's really—"

"Don't you dare say it's nothing," she whispered. "Not again. Never again. Do you understand? _I want to help you_."

Percy inhaled a breath. "Audrey, I can't tell—" he started, but he was cut off by loud knocking and voices. Stunned, Percy pulled back and he and Audrey exchanged glances before hurrying to the front door. Checking the peephole, Percy opened the door to admit Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny, who had undoubtedly come from Ron and Harry's flat. They were all dressed well, and they had even coordinated with each other, but the formality of their outfits clashed with the looks on their faces, which were exuberant and breathless.

"Did you hear?" Ron said, looking back and forth from Percy to Audrey.

"Hear what?" Percy asked, almost fearfully.

"Fleur's in labor!" Ginny said, shouldering Ron aside to deliver the news. Ron gave her a nasty look.

Audrey clapped her hands. "Oh, that's lovely!"

"Wait, now? Today? She's going to have the baby today?" Percy said.

"Yes, _today_," Ginny said, giving Percy a look. "And I know, it's…kind of weird. But…"

"I think it's brilliant," Hermione added. "It seems fitting."

"Yeah, I think so, too," Harry agreed. "It means that May 2nd will have a nicer meaning. A more…hopeful one, I guess."

"Exactly," Ginny said.

"So what's going on? Are we still going to Hogwarts with everyone?" Percy asked.

"Well, Mum and Dad are trying to contact Fleur's family, since the baby's a bit early," Ron said.

"So…what does that mean for us?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. I guess we can still go? But I don't think Mum's going to. She wants to help Fleur prepare."

"But doesn't Fleur already have a midwife?" Hermione interrupted.

"You know Mum, always wanting to have her say in anything that goes on with the family."

"Poor Bill," Harry said, and Ron grinned at him.

"Yeah, poor sod's probably ready to blow."

"Maybe we should go see if we can help? Even if it's just…calming down your mum," Hermione suggested.

"I like that idea," Audrey said. "Maybe we can distract her somehow?"

Ginny snorted. "Good luck! This is what she's been waiting for since forever! She's been preparing for _decades_."

Ron threw up his hands. "Well, if you girls want to try, be my guest!"

"Perhaps I will," Hermione said, lifting her head and appearing to mentally brace herself into a battle stance. "Well?" She glanced at the other women in the room.

"This is going to be _mad _but I suppose I can help ole Phlegm out," Ginny said.

"I'm in, too. Shall we go?" Audrey said.

"Wait, so what're we supposed to do?" Ron asked. "Are we not allowed on this girl's trip?"

Hermione huffed. "Oh, Ronald! Figure something out! You can come along later!"

"And hopefully you'll survive Mrs. Weasley. We wouldn't want you lot to get turned into craters after she's demolished you in her…enthusiasm," Harry said, grinning.

"You'd better hope not," Ginny said, giving Harry a quick peck. "Because what would you do without me?"

"Find a girlfriend?" Harry said, and Ginny swatted him.

"Yeah right. Who would take Harry Potter to be their boyfriend?"

"Hmm…" Harry said in mock puzzlement.

Ron scoffed. "You'd have to fight hundreds of rabid fans to get him back, Gin, so be careful over there! You too, 'Mione."

"Oh, thank you for considering me as an afterthought," Hermione said, spinning on her heel to grab Audrey's and Ginny's hands. "Now are we going or not?"

Audrey waved to Percy over her shoulder and the three of them Disapparated, leaving Percy blinking in their wake.

Ron was shaking his head. "Bloody women."

Harry clapped him on the back. "Come on, you know it's always like that with Hermione."

"But not for you! She's nice to you!"

"Maybe cause I'm better looking?" Harry said, dodging to avoid Ron's punch. Percy watched them tussle back and forth, and allowed himself a moment to reflect on what it would've been like if he had had such a close mate like Ron did. Then again, Harry was more of a brother now, a true member of their family, so it was a little different. Still, Percy wondered how his life would've changed if he had had a friend throughout Hogwarts – not just a co-worker or an acquaintance or a classmate, but an actual _friend_.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when Ron shook him.

"Oi, Percy, still there mate? What're we going to do now?"

Percy regained his composure. "Does George know? I believe he's still planning to go to the ceremony."

"He'll probably be happy to get out of it," Ron said. "Especially if the rest of us aren't going."

"But shouldn't someone represent our family?" Percy asked.

Harry sighed. "Percy's right. We should go. I think…I should be there."

Ron frowned at his mate. "Since when do you care what the papers say?"

"I don't. I've just got Teddy to think about. Andromeda's going to be there with him. And it might be nice to catch up with some other people."

"Alright, if you say so," Ron said, shrugging again. "What about you, Percy?"

"I suppose I'll go inform George. Check up on him."

"You want us to come?"

"No, no, we'll meet you there."

Ron nodded. "Okay, well, see you later then." He waved and joined Harry as they Disapparated to Hogwarts.

Percy went to the fireplace and threw in some Floo Powder, shouting, "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!"

Stepping out into George's flat, he was surprised to find his brother alone, sitting on the edge of his bed, his eyes staring and his expression vacant.

"George?" Percy said concernedly, and George shook himself out of it.

"Oh, hey Perce." He frowned. "Where's everyone else?"

"So you haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

Percy relayed the news, and a sad smile appeared on George's face.

"That's really great," George said, and his smile widened so it finally touched his eyes. "The first grandchild, huh? And they're really sure it'll be today?"

"Apparently."

George just grinned. "Perfect timing, right? I was hoping something would get me out of going to the ceremony. What's the rest of the family doing?" Percy filled him in, and George finally nodded. "Oh. So I guess we have to go then."

"We don't…_have_ to, I suppose," Percy said.

"But Ron and Harry are waiting for us. And so is Angelina, actually. She wanted to be alone for a bit," George said.

"Oh. So…how are things with you two? You seem…better, happier."

George smiled. "We are. Really. Today's just hard for both of us." He glanced at Percy. "Speaking of, what's going on with you and Audrey? Do you need me to write something on the Checklist before you completely push her away?"

Percy opened his mouth and then shut it, not knowing what to say. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bollocks, Perce! We're not blind!"

Percy's jaw tightened. "You know what? I'm tired of everyone trying to interfere in my relationship! It's personal, and none of your business!"

"Well you're being crazy, Percy. Do you not realize you're shutting her out? It's obvious!"

Percy's cheeks flamed. "So? What does that matter?"

George stared incredulously at him. "What does that matter? She's your girlfriend. You love her and she loves you! Why are you doing this?" When Percy didn't answer, George leveled his gaze. "Give me the Checklist. I know we haven't used it in a while, but I think you need some motivation."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"We both created it! If you don't give it to me, I'll find it!"

"I'd like to see you try," Percy said, his nose in the air. George stood up and the brothers were almost the same height as they glared at each other.

"Is that a challenge? Because I'll destroy your flat. Or leave some of my products lying around, hidden. You know I will."

"How dare you threaten me! It's none of your concern!"

"Oh, I think it is! Tell me where it is!"

A cough came from behind them and they spun to see Angelina standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips, regarding them curiously.

"Are you about done? The ceremony's starting soon. That is, if you're still coming."

George glared at Percy. "This isn't over." He crossed to stand beside Angelina. "I'm ready. The git can go on his own."

"Oh, so he's a git now?" Angelina rolled her eyes and turned around. "Come on, Percy. Let's go."

George stubbornly avoided looking at Percy as he awkwardly joined the couple, standing on the other side of Angelina so she was in between them. As they headed out of the shop and prepared to Disapparate, she glanced at them, shaking her head.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever understand this family…or brothers, actually. All I know is you two better get over yourselves. There are a lot of people there, and it'd be best if you behaved."

That shut them both up and they sobered quickly, remembering the gravity of the occasion. Inhaling a breath, Percy steeled himself for the solemn ceremony, trying to recall the joy that was to come at some point during the day. He hoped sooner rather than later so maybe George would forget their argument, though he had never been that lucky before, so why should it start now?

Unlike the previous year, the beautifully decorated ceremony had a lighter air to it, more of an atmosphere of hope, with much less grieving and instead teary smiles as happy memories were shared of the loved ones everyone had lost in the battle. Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt was there to deliver a speech, and it left the audience feeling even more inspired, especially with Hogwarts gleaming newly rebuilt in the background. People milled about talking and even laughing as they helped themselves to treats prepared by the house-elves, and Percy would've enjoyed himself more if he wasn't so concerned that George would not only follow through on his threats, but also get his hands on the Checklist and write down Percy's most dreaded goal.

But what could Percy do to stop him? No matter what happened, he would be forced to… But how could he? He wasn't strong enough. She would never agree…

But before he could fully panic, he and his brothers, plus Harry and Angelina, were interrupted by a message – the baby was coming. Percy was grateful for the distraction.

Arriving at Shell Cottage, Percy immediately felt cramped, as there were so many people waiting out in the living room and kitchen that there weren't many open spaces. It seemed that his father had gotten word to the Delacours, who were camped out in one corner whispering excitedly to each other in French. Percy made his way over to them to introduce himself, feeling that that was the polite thing to do as they had never properly met. He was instantly enchanted by all three of them, especially Apolline, and Percy had to remind himself that they had Veela blood, a fact he kept forgetting even with their conversation sputtered and died and he was still trapped in the feeling that he didn't want to stop talking to them.

A hand found his, and he was jolted out of the trance by Audrey, who appeared beside him with a knowing expression. She spoke to Apolline and told her Fleur wanted to see her, and as the French woman swept by them, Percy almost got lost in her delicate perfume. He shook his head, but somehow the fragrance lingered. He finally allowed Audrey to lead him away. She stifled her laughter as they found a free spot in the kitchen.

"Fleur's never affected me like that before," he said.

"Well, Fleur's mother is half-Veela. And with all three of them standing there, it's quite powerful."

"And yet you seem unaffected."

Audrey just grinned. "You should've seen me when I first introduced myself! My words kept tripping over my tongue, they were so beautiful! And the French accents – to die for!"

Percy smiled at her, equally amused before growing shamefaced. "Audrey, about earlier…I'm sorry."

She sighed, her good humor fading. "Stop apologizing. Just tell me what's wrong. Obviously not now, but…"

"Tonight then," Percy blurted, horrified but at the same time savoring his sudden burst of courage.

Audrey stared at him quizzically and then broke into a smile. "Okay. Tonight. When this is all over." She embraced him, giving him a quick kiss. "Thank you." He held her and tried not to lose his nerve. It wasn't easy, as they had to wait a bit longer. At one point, the entire first floor of Shell Cottage grew silent, all the couples leaning against one another, everyone's breaths bated as they waited for word. Which is why they all jumped when the outside door abruptly slammed open, and a panting Charlie appeared.

"Did I miss it?" he demanded breathlessly, and just as the family started to answer, there came a whoop from upstairs and Bill bounded down the stairs like a child. His face was lit up so that his scar was almost completely invisible.

"She's here! I'm a father!" he announced, and the house erupted in cheers. Charlie was the first to wrap his brother in a backbreaking hug, and as the two pounded each other's backs, Bill pulled apart and laughed gleefully. "You smell like rubbish, but I don't even care!"

"Well, it's a girl?" Ginny demanded.

"Yeah," Bill said. "And she's…she's…bloody hell, she's perfect!" He said, gesturing to Arthur and Fleur's father. "Dad, Monsieur Delacour, Gabrielle, go up and see her!" As they headed upstairs, the rest of the family shouted their questions.

"What's her name?" Ron asked.

"Dunno yet!" Bill said, and he didn't seem at all bothered by that fact, he was so blissfully happy.

Percy felt his face stretching into a massive smile just watching his eldest brother. The entire room felt it, the exuberant energy radiating from him, and everyone couldn't keep the smiles off their faces. Champagne was brought out – some of the best, as the Delacours had brought it – and as everyone raised their glasses, their toast was broken by a high-pitched keening, and Bill nearly burst into tears.

"That's my girl! That's my daughter!"

"When are we going to get to see her?" George asked, and Bill, throwing back his glass, grinned.

"I'll bring her down, but you'll all have to be careful!"

"Obviously!" Ginny laughed, and when Bill returned with his newborn daughter curled in his steady arms, the whole family crowded to get a look. The tiny, tiny girl was beautiful like her mother, and had inherited the same startling blue eyes and silvery-blond hair that confirmed she was indeed part Veela. It took all of their breath away staring at her as she pumped her tiny fist and squirmed, letting out a wail.

"There, there, love," Bill cooed, rocking her until she snuggled into him. The family melted at the scene, and Percy felt his heart aching. He suddenly realized without a doubt that this was what he wanted – his own child in his arms. He felt tears prick in his eyes as he tried to imagine all that Bill was feeling, though it wasn't hard, as the fierce surge of love and protectiveness was plainly written on his face.

_Merlin_ this is what Percy wanted so badly. But most importantly, he wanted it with the woman next to him, who was mesmerized with the baby in Bill's arms. The family was introducing themselves to her as the newborn's aunts and uncles and almost-relations, but Percy couldn't take his eyes off of Audrey.

Tonight would be the night. He couldn't back down, not now. Not when his dream was so close to being realized.

He was going to ask her.

As that thought solidified, Percy felt oddly calm and unafraid. The rest of the day passed in this state of utter readiness, and he didn't even need to think of how he would do it. He just knew. And by the time it came for them to leave, he and Audrey bade farewell to the new parents and his new niece, a girl they had finally chosen to name Victoire, French for victory.

And as May 2nd started to wind down, Percy reflected on her perfect name. Today was victorious, and would always be, he was sure of it.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Getting close to the end! I actually finished the last chapter the other day - I just need to go back over it to make sure it's perfect!_

_In other news, I started a blog where I will be reviewing popular Young Adult books. My review will be _Warm Bodies_ by Isaac Marion. Check it out and get involved in the discussion! It's at flightsofancyblog dot wordpress dot com.  
><em>

_Thanks for reading! :)  
><em>


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Percy should've known that the high-powered confidence that came from Victoire's birth wouldn't last. Whereas Shell Cottage had felt warm and alive and joyful, his flat felt empty and cold, and the minute he and Audrey Apparated there, Percy felt his courage slowly trickling away, leaving him snatching desperately at the escaping tendrils.

No, he had to do this! He couldn't wait any longer!

Audrey sensed his panic.

"Percy, what's wrong? What did you want to tell me?" She looked concerned, and guided him toward the couch, which Percy sank into gratefully.

He squeezed his eyes shut and remembered advice from Iwan, his healer. Deep breaths, focus on the breaths. Release the fear. After all, he would never know if he didn't try, right?

Percy opened his eyes and stared hard at Audrey. "Before I ask, I…I just want you to know that…I love you, always, and no matter what, I can't begin to explain my gratitude for everything you've done. You helped me through so much, and I'm so lucky to have met you. I could never regret anything because you saved me and I—"

Audrey put a finger to his lips, silencing him. "You keep talking like you know what I'm going to say. I haven't even heard the question."

Percy tried to read her expression, and he saw her eyes shining and her face reflecting the joy from earlier, with a hint of sweet anticipation for what he was going to ask. Did that mean…? His breaths hitched.

"Audrey, will you join me in my study?"

She blinked, and then let out a laugh. "Oh, okay. Was that your big question?"

But Percy didn't answer as he led her into the study. He hadn't decorated anything special, as he had left the house not realizing this would be happening. He started to berate himself for not planning better when he determinedly shook himself out of it, not wanting any more distractions. Digging in his desk drawer, Percy found the small box and clasped it in sweating fingertips. His heart pounding, he turned back to Audrey and bent down on one knee.

"This is the question I wanted to ask you," he said, and she covered her mouth with her hand and laughed.

"Well? Are you going to ask, or are you going to leave me guessing what's in that curious little box?"

Percy blinked. "Oh, yes, right, of course." Curses, he hadn't been this clumsy with Penelope! He had also been much more of a romantic, organizing an elaborate dinner date and rose petals and even some Charmed doves. This time was more frantic, but as he again refocused on the moment, he realized it felt much more…organic, and right, and real. He opened the box and revealed the ring he had thought would suit Penelope perfectly. Percy had been to the jeweler's to get it slightly altered to work better for Audrey and her simple tastes. He prayed the single diamond and golden engraving would be enough.

"Audrey Marie Littleton, will you marry me?"

When she hesitated for a moment, Percy felt like he was choking. Merlin, his heart was going to leap into his throat and block off his oxygen. He could feel it inflating, preparing for the jump, when Audrey smiled tearfully.

"This is what you've been fretting about this whole time?" She sank onto her knees so they were more equal in height, and she tenderly clasped his wrists. He wished she hadn't, as now it was very obvious to her how badly he was shaking. "Oh Percy, how could you think I would say no?"

Percy took a moment to process this, and when he did, his stomach did a strange lurching as it tried to recover from its previous sinking feeling. "Wait…what? Did you say…are you accepting…?"

"Yes, Percy!" Audrey laughed. "Yes, of course I'll marry you!"

A wave of heat burst behind Percy's vision and his eyes filled with tears. "You will?"

"Yes, you bloody fool, yes!" And as she grabbed the ring and slipped it onto her finger, she leaned forward to snog him breathless, once again confusing his poor heart. For a moment he was lost, conflicted between acknowledging the truth, and realizing that he might've stolen the day away from Bill and Fleur. But then his mind was wiped clean as their kiss deepened, and he felt electric and alive and gloriously happy. He was kissing his _fiancée_! This woman, this beautifully kind and perfect woman he loved was going to be his _wife_!

Without thinking, when they at last pulled apart, he blurted, "I want children."

In hindsight, this might've been too soon, but Audrey just held his face in her hands and laughed again.

"I know you do, Percy. I saw the way you were looking at Bill tonight. And I want children, too. But one thing at a time, love!"

"Right, yes, you're right."

Audrey grinned. "Always thinking ahead."

Percy just smiled like an idiot, completely speechless. They snogged again and eventually made their way to the bed, though they were careful, as what Audrey said was right.

One thing at a time.

* * *

><p>George collapsed into the chair with an exhausted pant, flexing his feet in his new shoes and rubbing his aching legs. He hadn't danced since the Yule Ball, and he realized there was a definite reason for that – he was bloody <em>rubbish<em> at dancing. And unfortunately, his girlfriend appeared to love it, and he had learned that if he could avoid future arguments by sacrificing something in the present, it was well worth it. In this case, though, he felt like he was sacrificing more than just his health – he was sacrificing his bloody self-esteem dressed in these _handsome _dress robes. They were far superior to the rags Ron had worn to the Yule Ball (an image George had never really forgotten, as it made him laugh when he felt down) but he still felt stiff and not quite himself.

Then again, this whole 'wedding' scene wasn't really his type of party. He had had fun at his brother's, but he had been surrounded by friends and family and he had his brother to keep things sane. Here, the only thing that made George feel like George were the Beater instincts that kept threatening to kick in every time some of the glittering decorations zipped over his head. He assumed that was Oliver's contribution, as he really couldn't get Quidditch out of his mind even on his wedding day, and the silver baubles really did resemble Bludgers in an odd sort of way…

The happy couple had already been wed in a surprisingly large ceremony, and the following reception was filled with dancing, gifts, and most importantly, refreshments including alcohol. George helped himself to another glass of champagne from a tray that floated by and watched the rest of the people enjoying themselves. Merlin, how it reminded him of the Yule Ball. Fred had been the one to really take initiative then – the massive flirt – and George remembered watching him dancing with Angelina as he sat on the sidelines, silently praying Katie would take the lead. Luckily she got the hint and dragged him onto the floor, much like Angelina was trying to do now, though he had so far successfully fanned her off with excuses of needing a break and wanting to give her girl time to dance with her mates.

Now George grinned as he watched Alicia, the blushing bride, and her two best mates encircling their arms and screaming the lyrics of the song the band was playing. He had never heard the song before, but they appeared to know it by heart and were letting loose without abandon. It made him so happy to see them like that. On the other side of the floor, Oliver was toasting with his parents, and somewhere in the crowd, he could hear Lee laughing obnoxiously loud. Even though George felt uncomfortable in such formal attire, the joyful atmosphere was affecting him, much like it had at Shell Cottage when Victoire was born. Thinking of her, George smiled.

Merlin, his niece was beautiful, and he had never seen Bill so happy before. He had almost been jealous for a moment, watching the first ever father-daughter bonding session, but he had quickly dismissed the feeling since he didn't want kids. At least, not yet. Maybe someday, with the right woman, but he couldn't imagine being a dad yet. Or hell, being a _husband_. And it seemed that was all the rage nowadays, as even Percy was signing up!

His brother had practically exploded with joy when he finally announced his engagement to the family a week after Victoire was born. He said he had proposed the night of her birth, but didn't want to take away attention from the new parents. Bill had told him he was an idiot before dashing off to attend to Victoire who was crying in the next room, as they had all accommodated the new parents by having their weekly family dinner at Shell Cottage. With the new baby and this exciting announcement, the dinner table buzzed pleasantly, and no one could stop smiling and laughing - they were too dazedly giddy. Their mum had practically fainted of happiness, and even George couldn't deny that he had never felt so light in everyone's presence. It was amazing how such simple yet complicated life steps could alter the mood of everyone in the immediate area. There Bill was being a dad, and over there, Percy was going to be a husband, and George was unbelievably happy for them.

That didn't exactly mean he was ready to fuss over another wedding and all the ridiculous invitations and plans and dress robes and flowers and cakes and expensive gifts and outrageous decorations. Of course, Percy would probably not be as crazy as Oliver, who had requested all the tables represent a different Quidditch team with the appropriate colors and Transfigured mascots. As George had been placed at the Montrose Magpies table – a place of honor in Oliver's mind, he supposed, as the team had won the League Cup at least thirty-two times and was his mate's other favorite besides Puddlemere United of course –the table was adorned with a black and white magpie mascot that was hopping around, nibbling at the crumbs of people's cake or sipping from their wine glasses and seeming to get rather drunk. George watched the tiny bird stumble and then chirrup in a slur that sounded alarmingly like a Muggle song…

"Hey!" came a voice, and Angelina collapsed in a chair beside him, her face flushed and her lips parted in a wide grin. "Ready for another dance?"

"Already? You sure you don't want to rest for a minute?"

"Why waste time sitting when you can dance?" Angelina laughed, gulping down some water and then yanking on George's hand. "Come on!"

"Woman, you're going to be the death of me!" George said in mock seriousness as Angelina gleefully pulled him onto the dance floor. As they got there, the music abruptly changed to a slow song, and Angelina wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against his chest. They swayed slowly in a circle, and George concentrated on not stepping on her feet or getting his own tangled up.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Angelina said softly.

"What?"

"The Yule Ball."

George smiled for a moment. "Yeah, I was thinking that, too." But he was also thinking about something that had crossed his mind, though he hadn't mentioned it to her yet. The alcohol fogging his mind made him decide to try. "Are you thinking of dancing with Fred?"

Angelina pulled away from him to stare up at him, sensing an odd tone in his voice.

"Have you been drinking?"

George frowned. "What? It's an honest question. You dated my brother. My _twin_ brother. Don't tell me I haven't reminded you of him."

"Do we have to do this now?" Angelina said, and George grimaced and sighed.

"No, sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

Angelina gazed at him and then resumed her position against his chest. George closed his eyes and tried to distract himself with the music.

"You used to remind me of him, but not so much anymore," Angelina murmured after a long pause, causing George to shiver as her voice vibrated into his chest.

"Did you love him?" he asked as they turned in a circle.

"No. It was just a fling, really," she said, twirling underneath his raised arm. "And the Yule Ball was fun, but everything else… It wasn't like what we have now. What we have now is so much better. You do know that, right?" She pulled away again and they clasped hands to move in a stepping pattern as the music gradually picked up pace again.

He gazed down at her and saw the earnestness in her expression. He shook his head, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have brought this up…"

"George, I never loved your brother like I love you now," she said, squeezing his hands as they stopped moving and just stared at each other.

"Really?" he blurted out.

"Really. Though I do miss him."

George swallowed hard. "I wish…he could be here now. These are his friends, too."

Angelina smiled sadly. "Maybe he is here, or at least watching from somewhere. I'm sure he stuck around to check out the party and to make sure we weren't mucking up the shop." As George chuckled wistfully, she added, "And I know Oliver and Alicia and Katie and Lee and everyone here who knew him wishes he was here today, celebrating with us."

"Yeah," George whispered. "I know."

"Oi, why the long faces over here?" Lee said abruptly, making George and Angelina jump. "You realize this is a party, right? Or was it the music? Honestly, the musicians are bloody _amateurs_, I don't know what Alicia was thinking hiring them."

Angelina snorted. "So you think you're some big shot just because you have a successful radio program? You think can judge everyone?"

Lee gave her an offended look. "Of course! Obviously! Don't you know anything, my dear?" He grinned wickedly and held up his champagne glass. "Hey, have you guys had enough champagne? It's not the cheap kind so at least they did _something_ right. It's bloody _delicious_."

Angelina shot him a weird look and as Lee went to chase a floating tray of champagne, she glanced at George and they both laughed. The music paused and then resumed with a lively number and George mockingly bowed and held out his hand.

"A dance, milady?"

Angelina fanned herself. "Oh, what a gentleman. How could I refuse?"

And they twirled back onto the floor, giggling and letting their depressing thoughts float away to be replaced instead with the joy and celebration of their friends' wedding.

* * *

><p>Percy felt so happy that it was like he was floating. He didn't start deflating until days, heck, <em>weeks<em> later, and even then, he still felt amazing. It was beyond description, feeling utterly accepted and loved and _wanted_. He couldn't stop thanking Audrey, though he had to when she finally sat him down and gripped his hands, calmly assuring him that she wasn't going to change her mind. That was baffling in and of itself, but it made Percy feel warm in the deepest parts of him. She loved him and he loved her and she was going to be his wife. Sometimes it just felt like a dream.

But he had to wake up from it. Not in a bad way, but in a realistic way. He had work to focus on, wedding plans to start, parents to consult, and feelings to consider. The latter bit did not refer to his own, but rather, his siblings' feelings. He didn't want the family to completely shift their attention to him and Audrey when Bill and Fleur could use it more. Victoire was a precious baby but she was becoming a handful for the new parents, and they needed help figuring things out so they could get a decent night's sleep.

Not only that, but Percy felt that maybe he was being a little…snooty, and rubbing it in that he and Audrey were engaged. This was particularly in regards to George, who had only (comparatively) recently begun a relationship with Angelina. Percy thought she was a great girl, but he was concerned that his brother didn't know what he was doing with her…and frankly, vice-versa. They had started out as mates, which Percy thought was a good approach, but now, they didn't seem to know where to go from there. For the first few weeks he barely saw George, and when the couple finally emerged, there was a strange intensity surrounding them. Percy recognized it as a mutual clinginess to prevent both of them from feeling lonely, and he wished he could step in to help them work it out. But Iwan, who had still requested Percy to see him despite Percy appearing 'normal' now (which Percy agreed was probably a smart idea), had warned him not to interfere, that it wasn't his place to judge his brother's relationship, and it was condescending to suddenly assume that he was an expert just because he was engaged.

Percy had come to really trust and value Iwan's opinions, but when it came to George, Percy didn't know if the healer was correct. After all, Iwan hadn't been there when George closed himself off to the world, or when they were attacked by Dementors, or when George almost left the country to avoid his birthday (this he finally admitted to Percy _months_ after the fact). When it came to his family, Percy knew he didn't have a perfect record, but all the same, he felt that he had a connection with George. By composing the Checklist together, they had brought themselves out of terrible, self-harming mindsets, and though Percy hated himself for thinking it, sometimes he was glad Fred wasn't there because it meant that he actually felt closer to one of his brothers, and had a strong bond that had been noticeably absent in his childhood.

So, when the weekly family dinner came around again, and George showed up without his girlfriend, Percy watched his brother in sinking, empathetic agony. It was clear from the way that George's eyes flickered constantly to the empty seat beside him that he missed Angelina, and from the way his shoulders were set, Percy could tell that they had had a row. He knew it wasn't his business to demand the cause, but he still wanted to know, and he confronted George after dinner up in George's old bedroom, where he had wandered to be alone.

George, who was laying on his bed, cracked open an eye to see that it was Percy who had called his name. He sighed.

"Fine, go ahead, let it out."

Percy blinked, standing in the doorway. "What? Let what out?"

"Whatever you wanted to say to me."

"How did you know…?"

George snorted. "Oh, you thought you were being subtle? You were practically _staring _at me all dinner. Bloody hell, never be a spy. You're rubbish at the whole 'sneaky' thing."

Percy bit back a retort and tried to sit on the edge of George's bed, though his legs were in the way. Percy gestured to them, but his brother just closed his eyes, smirking. Percy cleared his throat for several long moments before George finally bent his knees and drew up his legs so Percy would have room to sit.

"Do you always have to be so difficult?" Percy huffed. "I'm trying to help you. I just wanted to see how you're doing."

"How do you think I'm doing? You certainly worked it out on your own, I'm sure. From all your _careful observation_."

"Don't be so…cross with me!"

George rolled his eyes. "Well we can't _all_ have perfect lives like yours, Perce!" He childishly turned over on his bed so that he was staring away from his brother.

"Perfect lives?" Percy repeated to his back.

"Perfect lives, perfect relationships, you know. Getting engaged, making all your dreams come true."

"And you think it's been easy?"

George scoffed and muttered, "Sure looks it."

"You do realize you're speaking to someone who still sees a healer every week? So that I don't lose my sodding mind?"

From both shame and amazement that Percy had cursed, George slowly turned over and gave his brother a hard look.

"So you had a row with Angelina. It's not the end of the world," Percy continued now that he had George's attention.

"Well _obviously_. But it could be the end of my business!"

Percy's eyebrows knit together. "What? You might lose the shop? I thought you were doing well financially?"

"We are! It's the…personal side. Well, the business side…"

"You know, you should never mix the two," Percy said.

"That coming from the guy who's getting married to his former employee. His _subordinate_."

Percy's eye twitched. "Alright, fair enough. But what's the problem?"

George swung his legs over the side of the bed and cradled his head in his hands.

"I was going to ask Angelina to be my official business partner. It's about time, right?" George said, and Percy nodded.

"So what happened?"

George let out a long sigh. "Well…it was when I met her parents a few weeks ago. They're great and everything, but they really wanted Angelina to be a pro Quidditch player, and she doesn't want to anymore. She told them she's staying with the shop, and I don't think they get it."

"Do they not like you?"

George shook his head. "No, that's not it. I've met them before, I mean, we've been mates forever. But now it's like…they're getting in her head. Ange is suddenly not sure she wants to be so involved with the shop. She's thinking about getting back into training. And…that's great, and I want her to be happy, but…I _need_ her, you know? She knows more about the shop than me, sometimes, and… I really like working with her," he trailed off in a soft voice.

"Did you tell her how you feel?"

George shrugged. "Kind of. But…isn't that selfish? To want her to stay instead of going off and following her dreams?"

Percy was thoughtful. "Well…she _is_ happy at the shop, isn't she?"

"Yes! At least I thought so, but now…I don't know what to think."

"What about Lee? Isn't he one of your partners?"

"Yeah, but Lee's got his own business. He pops in every once in a while, but he doesn't actually help run the shop. That's me and Ange and…sometimes Ron." George gave Percy a sidelong glance. "And now you're going to say I should work more with dear Ronniekins, aren't you?"

Percy held up his hands in conceit. "Yes, well, it is _Weasleys'_ Wizard Wheezes, isn't it?"

"And who's to say I won't marry Ange someday?"

Percy perked up. "Oh?"

George rolled his eyes. "No! That was a joke! Does everything always have to be so proper with you?"

"Marriage is not a laughing matter," Percy said, and George mimed strangling himself.

"Perce, seriously, I was taking the piss. I don't know what's going to happen in the future. Maybe I'll end up marrying Ange, I don't know! That's not on my mind right now, okay? I'm worried about the shop! And…and my girlfriend!"

"Alright, alright, calm down. I think you should talk to her. And I think you should get Ron more involved. He's going to need more responsibility so he can become financially independent."

"He's already financially independent. Why do you think he moved into a flat with Harry?" George shot back.

"And why do you think it took him several years to do so?"

"I don't know!" George said, throwing up his hands. "I'm not in the kid's head, thank Merlin!"

"I'm just saying, George, that Ron could be a valuable asset to your business. So you're not entirely relying on one person. If I've learned anything in the past few years…it's that you can't cling to people. You can't fixate on them. You have to let them go live their own lives, and if Angelina wants to move toward Quidditch, as her employer _and_ as her boyfriend, you have to let her."

George's shoulders slumped. "I know. I just…don't want to lose her."

Percy put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I don't think you will. Some separation might even make your relationship stronger. And do talk to Ron. It would be an excellent opportunity for him."

George nodded. "Yeah, I know. Me and Ange _had_ talked about promoting him to Branch Manager when we open in Hogsmeade."

"That sounds perfect," Percy said with enthusiasm, and George smirked at him.

"You seem really happy, Perce. I'm glad."

Percy smiled at him. "I am happy. And I'm glad you're here." He inhaled a deep breath and tried to swallow past a lump in his throat. "I'm glad…I'm glad we're both here. I've been thinking how…how grateful I am that you…that _we_ made the Checklist."

George was thoughtful. "Yeah. I'm glad…that we made it, too. Even though now…we don't really need it anymore, do we?"

Percy shook his head. "No. I don't think we do. I think we're going to be okay."

George was nodding. "Yeah. I think you're right. We're both going to be okay." The brothers glanced at each other and then away, embarrassed. Percy gruffly cleared his throat and stood.

"I guess I'll…erm…leave you. Good luck with Angelina, and—"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll talk to Ron."

"Good."

"Great. See ya, Perce. And thanks. Really."

"You're welcome. See you later, George."

"Oh wait, Percy!"

Percy retraced his steps and stood in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"What're we going to do with the Checklist?"

Percy was quiet a moment, and then shrugged. "I'm not sure. It's just in my desk drawer at the moment."

"Oh, okay. I guess…we'll think about it, yeah? Maybe burn it or something?"

"Sure. We'll figure it out."

* * *

><p>But they never did. The Checklist stayed in the drawer, remaining even when Percy moved into a house with Audrey and brought the desk with him.<p>

It was there, in the back of the drawer, that the Checklist marked the passage of time with layers of dust. It heard laughter, tears, anger, and all the emotions in between. It listened and waited, wondering if it would ever reemerge into the light.

Until one day, it did.


	23. Epilogue

Epilogue

George's life was speeding by.

He and Angelina had a serious talk, and she realized she was letting her parents talk her into doing something she didn't want to do. She stayed with the shop, and together, they opened the branch in Hogsmeade and appointed Ron as the Manager.

The holidays flew by, George's twenty-third birthday came and went, and they celebrated the anniversary of the battle and Victoire's first birthday. Then it was Percy and Audrey's wedding, and before they knew it, summer was gone and they were prepping the shops for the inevitable rush of Hogwarts students before the start of term.

After that, it was a continuous cycle of work and laughter and growth. Percy and Audrey very quickly announced that they were expecting, and the family teased them mercilessly, but nothing could diminish their smiles. When Fleur announced that she was also pregnant, the family began to bet on which baby would arrive first. Molly was already overwhelmed and doting entirely on Victoire, but the news that she would have two new grandchildren was enough to send her into hysterics. She began to prepare with new intensity, and the Burrow filled with baby things from toys to clothes to nappies. Arthur joked that she was knitting an entire army of baby sweaters and onesies and that yarn was falling out of his ears.

In February of 2002, the call came that Audrey was in labor, and the family met and watched as Percy and Audrey became the parents of a beautiful, red-haired daughter they named Molly. When Percy handed their mum the grandchild he had named for her, she began weeping more than usual, and the entire family felt their hearts breaking as Percy wept with her and embraced her. The family engulfed them and they all remembered how far they had come and how much they had grown.

After Bill and Fleur welcomed another daughter, Dominique, in the summer, it was like a competition between the couples. The family started betting again on who would be the next to have a baby. As it turned out, Percy and Audrey wanted their daughter to grow up with a sibling close in age, so it was little Molly that got to have a playmate in the form of a sister named Lucy. She was followed closely by the family's first nephew and grandson, Bill and Fleur's son, Louis.

With all the new babies in the family, everyone felt themselves growing up rather quickly. Now whenever George visited the Burrow, he always expected to play with one of his nieces or nephews, or even Teddy, now a precocious six year old who loved to teach his younger friends. The young Lupin was particularly fond of four year old Victoire, and the pair could be seen spending lots of time playing together. Whenever the family heard a crash, it was always Teddy and Victoire that came first to the family's mind, and it was enough to start a private joke that the two would someday grow up and get married.

The babies also made them all start considering more serious matters. Harry and Ginny, who had moved into a flat together, were the first to announce their engagement that year. They also told everyone their intentions of fixing up Harry's inheritance, Grimmauld Place, so it would be hospitable for their future family. That summer was spent painstakingly helping them clean the dark house, and without Kreacher, it would've taken ages, but by the time their wedding happened in the fall, the house was ready.

Hermione and Ron had also by then moved into their own flat, and when they finally announced their engagement, the family was overjoyed, though none more so than Harry and Ginny. The couple bent over backwards to help their friends and siblings plan their dream wedding, making sure they had their perfect day to shine on their own as a separate joyous occasion from the recent news of Ginny's first pregnancy. The wedding took place in June on a perfect summer day, and both blushing bride and bumbling husband had never looked so happy, that is, until Harry gave them their wedding present: a huge down payment for their own home, taken from Harry's own vault in Gringotts. Even when Hermione and Ron protested the sum, he refused to back down, and they were forced to accept the enormous gift. There was a lot of joyful crying that day, but George couldn't tease anyone, not when the trio deserved all of it and more.

Harry and Ginny, wasting no time, welcomed another boy to the family in early August. James, somehow already a mischief-maker, took the strongest interest in his foster brother Teddy and vice versa, causing Victoire to get jealous when her co-conspirator devoted more of his attentions to teaching James the "proper" way to do things.

Needless to say, the babies were growing up and becoming right handfuls for their parents, and George wasn't helping, since he sent all his nieces and nephews complimentary products from the shop (once they were at the appropriate age, of course – he wasn't _that_ mad). Though that often meant angry letters or words (especially from Percy, who was appalled that Molly loved scaring her sister and giving her parents heart attacks with _Headless Hats_), George refused to stop, and instead, worked even harder to develop new products with Angelina and Ron. The two had become indispensable in his business, and it was absolutely flourishing, demanding that they spend all sorts of hours cleaning and planning and thinking of expanding. They hired new employees to give them a break, as they did want to spend at least _some _of their time with their loved ones.

With Ron married off, George started to get a nagging feeling that he had to follow. Though no one expected him to, he knew they all secretly wished it, and if he was honest with himself, he knew there wasn't going to be anyone else for him. Angelina was the one, if they married or not. And really, there wasn't too much pressure. After all, Charlie hadn't gotten married, and no one was really upset about that. In fact, they were happy, since their brother had finally come out to them and was instead in a healthy relationship with his Romanian mate, Stefan.

With all of them paired up and many of them with children, the Burrow was extremely full when they had their weekly family dinners. It was boisterous and loud and happy, and the kids made sure there was never a dull moment. But if they thought it was too full, it was too bad for them, because in the next year, Hermione and Ron had their first child, a smiling girl named Rose, and Harry and Ginny had another son, Albus. George liked to joke, when he saw all the kids together, that some of them didn't look like they fit, as Bill and Fleur's children were blond, and baby Albus had his father's jet-black hair, whereas the rest were varying shades of Weasley red.

Even though George joked, he started to find himself wondering what his and Angelina's child would look like. With those thoughts came the realization that he really was imagining his future with her, and that included envisioning her as his wife. They had spoken about marriage years before, but neither of them had wanted to rush into things like it seemed _everyone_ else was doing (including their own friends), and although she had said she was fine with waiting, it abruptly occurred to George that he didn't want to wait anymore. So, one morning as they were about to open the shop, he brought Angelina outside to inspect the sign hanging over the front door.

"Does something seem wrong with the sign?" he asked.

Angelina squinted and cocked her head. "Erm…no. I don't see anything…"

"Look closer."

"What exactly am I looking for?"

"Well, you see how it says 'Weasleys'?"

"Yeah, but—?" And when she turned to face George, he was down on one knee. She raised her eyebrows in shock.

"I think we should make that 'Weasleys' part really official," George said, opening a box to reveal the ring.

Angelina's mouth parted. "What?" she breathed. "This isn't…a prank?" George gave her a look that read 'go ahead and see,' and Angelina cautiously grabbed the ring and put it on her finger, her expression clearly amazed. George hoped that she was less astonished that it wasn't a new product, and more that George was actually proposing to her.

"Well?" he asked, standing up.

Angelina was just frozen. She blinked. "Wait, so…you're being serious?"

"Uh, yes!"

Her lips finally quirked into a grin. "So you're expecting me to change my last name?"

Now it was George's turn to blink. "Are you saying yes?"

"Uh, yes!" Angelina said mockingly, grinning widely. She threw herself into George's arms and they snogged until they had to breathe. "And I guess I can change my last name," she added with a smirk.

Their wedding wasn't a grand affair, and that was perfectly fine with George. Though most of his days had been good, he did have his few bad ones, and he feared that the night before his wedding would be disastrous. Fortunately, they had been together so long and already survived so many things, that marrying Angelina felt like the natural next step. Having kids was something else entirely, and though George wasn't sure he'd ever be ready for that, he had plenty of nieces and nephews to play with so it didn't seem to matter much.

More years passed. Little Hugo and Lily were added to the already bursting family, but they easily fit into spaces no one knew were available. The family was warm and loud and happy. George was the crazy uncle that all the kids adored because he gave them presents and let them pull pranks on their parents. And while George loved his role in the family, he began to notice some changes within himself. He started watching his brothers interacting with their children in a way that, as an uncle, he never could. That question of what his and Angelina's children would look like once again burned in his mind, but this time, it stuck. Did that mean he was ready for his own kids? The thought terrified yet simultaneously exhilarated him.

When he finally brought it up to Angelina, she just smiled and said she had been considering similar things. Then, with a coy look, she raised her eyebrows.

"Well, should we start trying?"

It was several months before they were successful, and when George found out, he almost set off their entire stock of Wildfire Whiz-bangs before Angelina gently reminded him that the products were already being considered banned by the Ministry (due to their unstoppable nature), and that he would need to save them for when the baby was actually born.

Even though George was happy, bad days and dark moods still crept up on him every once in a while. Sometimes, they originated from dreams or nightmares of Fred and his death. Sometimes they started with a terrible feeling of _wrongness_, that something was missing, and nothing he did could make the yawning emptiness disappear. Other times it was triggered by memories that always made him wonder if Fred would approve of what he had done with the shop. Was this really what Fred would've wanted?

Perhaps the worst of his dark days came when he was lying awake one night. He was in the flat above the shop, though it had changed significantly since he first returned there as a bachelor. He and Angelina had expanded upward, creating more rooms and extending areas to create space for a living room and a work room. There were also two extra bedrooms now, and the kitchen was full-sized with a dining table.

Lying in bed next to Angelina in their refurbished master bedroom, hearing her breathing peacefully and feeling the extra bulge of her stomach pressing into him, George had a sudden, crashing realization of what this meant, bringing a child into the world. He didn't know how to be a dad. He barely knew how to be an uncle. Some days were really awful, and while Angelina was able to give him space, his child wouldn't be able to. What if he treated his kid badly when these unshakable moods consumed him? What if he unintentionally yelled, or worse, lashed out? What if he made his own child hate him because of the way he acted? What if his child grew up thinking he was an angry, bitter man who had never really gotten over his twin's death? Would his kid ever understand him, or forgive him?

George blinked back tears as he slid his legs over the side of the bed and drew his hands down his face. He tried to make himself stop crying by pinching his arms, but the tears overflowed. Now he couldn't stop thinking about Fred, and how his own twin would never know George's children or any of his other nieces and nephews. Fred would never have his own kids, and it was so bloody unfair that he had had to die so young. Why was his brother not allowed to have a future, when George was? What made George so special? It was only because he had Angelina and his family as anchors that he was even able to stay sane, let alone succeed. And now he was going to be a dad, and he was so excited and happy but it just seemed so _unfair_.

Warmth cascaded over him in the form of Angelina's arms as she draped herself against his back and over his shoulders. She gently kissed him and clasped his hands as his shoulders shook. He turned to embrace her, unable to stop crying, and they just held each other until he stopped.

"I'm sorry. I don't…know why…" he started.

"It's okay," she said. "It's going to be alright."

And it was alright. At least he made sure he was alright most of the time. When he had time alone, he let the dark thoughts loose. He took out some of his frustrations on his brother's grave, where he and Fred got into infamous cussing matches until a Hogwarts professor heard about them from a student and approached George to tell him, not unkindly, that he needed to express 'his kind' of grief elsewhere as there were children in the nearby vicinity.

That of course made George realize question just how mature he was and if it was right for him to even be _having_ a kid. The doubts tore at him again until he forced himself to visit with his brothers. Bill, Percy, and Ron all knew what George was going through, and told him to stop being an arse and that it would all work out. It helped that they went out to the pub and got completely sloshed – a night to vaguely remember, as they had all drunk too much and had never really gone out before in such a strange, mixed group. George woke up the morning after with a raging hangover, but an inner calm that let him sleep again and not worry so much. Part of it was his brothers' reassurances, and a lot of it was what they had reminded him of – that it would be hard sometimes, painful other times, and absolutely bloody terrifying all the time, but that, despite everything, none of them could ever regret having kids since it brought a whole new level of joy to their lives.

Nearing Angelina's due date, George worked extra hard to make up for the time he would inevitably lose caring for the baby. He was completely expecting the worst for the first few weeks, like the sleepless nights and endless crying and nappy changing, but if he was honest, he couldn't wait to meet his child. He and Angelina had kept the baby's gender a secret, and George was dying to know if he would have a daughter or a son, and what he would name them and how they would grow up being pranksters like their parents and late uncle. Not only that, but he wanted to see how his child would fit in with the rest of the family, and he knew his friends would finally get off his back about organizing play dates. After all, they were all hitched and official parents themselves, even Lee! It was about time George and Angelina joined the club!

George was grinning to himself thinking of their future plans one day at the shop. It was mid-summer, and a busy day so George didn't have long to stare off into space. He swooped into action as customers bombarded him, asking his opinions about what would be the best gift, or answering questions about when a certain product would wear off, or how his customers could best force Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes's products into the lives of their annoying relatives. George was bouncing around, trying to talk to everyone, and was forced to give his wife an apologetic expression when she tried to get his attention but failed to pry him away. The next time she tried to alert him she grabbed for his sleeve, but George was pulled in another direction by a young girl adamant on learning all the effects of the Love Potions.

By the time George had a spare moment to talk to Angelina, she pulled him into the storeroom.

"George. I've been in labor for a few hours, and it's getting closer. What do you think about closing early?"

George could only blink at this news and the flat way Angelina said it, but then she grinned and the spell broke.

"Really? HOLY MERLIN!"

Running to the front of the store, George pressed his wand into his throat and said, "_Sonorus!_" before continuing, his voice booming, "Ladies and gentlemen, we strongly appreciate your business, but I regret to inform you that we must be closing the shop early for today, on account of my wife giving birth to my child. We are sort of not really sorry for the inconvenience."

The store laughed at the last bit, and then everyone broke out into cheers as Angelina emerged from the storeroom, grinning and patting her protruding stomach. George ushered people to the door, thanking them when they congratulated him, and as he shooed out the last customer and one of his new employees, who they really didn't want to leave alone, he hurried up to their flat, grabbed their already packed bags, and made for a birthing clinic near Angelina's home.

George gave Angelina ample time to get settled, and then they braced themselves for the inevitable barrage as they alerted the families. Unlike previous births, the whole family couldn't afford to come, and definitely not immediately, as many of them had younger, fussier children who wouldn't appreciate the wait involved. So, factoring in the amount of time to acquire babysitters or to have their spouses volunteer to watch the kids while they were gone, it took roughly an hour for everyone to show up. George was touched that all the Weasleys were there, especially his brothers who huddled around him and cheered him up. He hadn't realized how anxious he was until they were all there, attempting to calm him down, and George found it oddly comforting, despite all the noise and shoving hands.

It was the longest night of his life. Her labor went on for several more hours into early evening, and George couldn't believe how slow time was passing. But when the moment arrived, it was so fast and mind-blowing that all George could do was stare in amazement at his wife and their new baby girl. He hugged and kissed Angelina and they snuggled together with the baby between them, and George didn't know when he started crying, but he didn't stop till hours later, when his eyes were red and his face puffy and his cheeks tired from smiling.

It was, without a doubt, the greatest night of his life.

So far.

* * *

><p>"I still remember every detail of Roxy's birth. It was…everything. I'm surprised that even an old man like me can remember so clearly," George said.<p>

"You mean old _geezer_," Fred's portrait replied.

George's lips pulled into a grin as he grunted and creakingly stood up. His knees cracked, and he had to use his brother's grave as a support, but when he finally stood tall, his back was straight and his eyes were clear. He turned slowly and viewed Hogwarts, which had changed in the last few decades, but still somehow retained enough familiarity to bring memories to his mind. He smiled faintly.

"It's really been fifty years. Fifty years since you died," he said quietly.

"Yeah, well…look at how time flies," was Fred's reply. Over the years, George had tried different spells to alter Fred's portrait's personality so he could at least have a conversation with his twin instead of being insulted. At some point, the spells had finally started to take effect, and though Fred would never really mature, he was a lot less obnoxious and could actually carry conversations and remember details from previous visits. "How're the grandkids?"

George smiled again. "Good, good. Some of them are getting ready to go to Hogwarts."

"Already?"

"Yes, can you believe it?"

"Are they properly stocked?" Fred's portrait asked.

"Oh, I'm sure my Freddie's made sure of that." Thinking of his son's new products and how his grandchildren were planning to use them, George began to laugh. But it wasn't long before he started wheezing, and he clutched his chest.

"You alright?"

George didn't answer his brother as he grimaced and coughed.

Was he alright?

To be honest, he had been feeling a bit dodgy for the past few days. Visiting Fred's grave usually helped him feel better, as it reminded him of being young. It especially helped that Fred's grave had become somewhat of a shrine to all the defunct Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products. Not only that, but current students were still using the grave as a hiding place, where they stowed all their illegal products since each successive Hogwarts Headmaster had made it their express first duty to ban them. George didn't know why they bothered, as forbidding something only made it more tempting, and the students nowadays were even cleverer at concealing them or finding ways to smuggle them in. If only the Headmasters knew that the hub of this illicit trading and stashing was right under their noses…but George would never be the one to reveal the secret. That ensured that Fred would have constant visitors, and for the students, it allowed them a special place to make friends and work on their magic, as George had found left-behind products that had been modified, and even some outdated ones that very intelligent witches and wizards had repaired using their own crafted spells.

George couldn't have been prouder of his and Fred's legacy, though he supposed now it was also Angelina's and Roxy's and Freddie's legacy, too, despite his and Angelina's recent retirement, and Roxy's decision to pursue a different career. Speaking of Roxanne, her birthday was soon…

Ah, _that's _why he had been remembering Roxy's birth. Bloody hell, that had changed everything for him. He recalled how tiny she had been, fitting into the crook of his arm, and how beautiful she still was, with her mother's coloring but slightly lighter hair, including a few auburn streaks to properly designate her a Weasley. She had been his precious little girl, and like her mum, she had saved him in her own way. Whenever George had gotten into one of his moods and been depressed and trying to hide it, Roxy had always found him. Even when she could barely walk, he remembered her tiny feet pattering on the floor as she toddled over to him and put her hands on his face to wipe away his tears. She would squeeze him tight and his heart would feel like it was breaking, but it was really mending as he pulled her to him and breathed into her hair and felt how small and warm she was. When she got older and was able to talk, she would tell him it was okay and that he should not be so sad and that she loved him and everything would be alright. He would stroke her hair and say that he knew that, and that he loved her so much and that she always made him better.

Freddie was a different story, though he tried to take after his older sister whenever George needed comforting. When Roxy's way didn't work for him, Freddie was brilliant at coming up with effective (and absolutely aggravating) distractions. It didn't help that they lived above a joke shop, and from the moment he was born, Freddie had been in love with the store and the products and had gotten his hands on anything he could once he started moving on his own. Angelina and George had jokingly described their son as a tornado, unpredictable and always wreaking havoc. But George knew that, even though he couldn't be as sensitive as his sister, this was just Freddie's way of making things better, and happier.

And George had never been happier than after his children were born. Sure, there were times when he was frustrated to no end, and sure, he got angry sometimes and yelled and stormed off. And sure, he still got sad thinking about Fred, but life was suddenly so much busier and fuller than it had been, and George didn't have time to dwell on anything in particular because everything just moved so fast. In one instant, his children were babies, and the next, they were getting married and having their own kids. Merlin, George was a granddad now, and a great uncle several times over. It made him feel old but also extremely fulfilled and content.

"George? Hello, George, are you there?"

George startled out of his thoughts and turned back to his brother's grave.

"What? Sorry, I was thinking."

"Oh were you? It kind of looked like you were staring at nothing. You weren't even _blinking_."

"I was blinking! And I was just…thinking about how strange life is, you know?"

"Erm…" Fred's portrait started. "No, I wouldn't know. The real me is dead, and I'm a talking gravestone. It kind of makes it hard to be philosophical."

George snorted and then tried to laugh, though his chest felt tight again. This time, he couldn't seem to draw in a breath, and as he struggled, his knees buckled and suddenly the sky was above him, and he could hear Fred's voice calling to him but he didn't know what he was saying. The world was spinning strangely and his chest still felt tight and his lungs didn't seem to be working. A creeping darkness began to slide over his vision, and as the light faded, he felt something strange.

A warm hand on his own.

* * *

><p>Percy and Audrey were entertaining their grandchildren when the call came that George had collapsed at Fred's grave. Two Hogwarts Third Years had found him and raised the alarm, and he was now at the hospital where Percy's middle-aged niece, Roxanne, worked as Head Mediwitch. After making arrangements, Percy and Audrey rushed over to the hospital.<p>

Outside George's room, they found Angelina and Roxanne arguing.

"Why didn't you tell anyone he was feeling ill?" Roxanne demanded, her brows creased in worry.

"Because he said it was nothing! You know how your father is!"

"Yes, I do, and you should've let me know something was off!" Roxanne said before biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound so harsh…" She allowed herself to be pulled into Angelina's sagging yet strong embrace, and mother and daughter held each other tightly as Percy approached.

"How is he?"

The women slowly pulled apart, and by the devastated look in their eyes, Percy felt his heart constrict.

"I examined him," Roxanne said, hugging herself. "And…I don't think he's going to last the night." This last part was cut off by a stifled cry, and beside him, Percy heard Audrey gasp as Angelina closed her eyes.

"But surely there's something you can do… Some kind of magic or spell… We're wizards, aren't we?" Percy said, knowing he was being rude and far too critical, but he couldn't help it. "Do you know what caused his collapse?"

"I've run all kinds of tests and diagnoses, but nothing is conclusive," Roxanne continued, her whole body slumping. "We don't know what's wrong. These kinds of things happen when wizards get to this age. And Dad…Dad's had a lot of trauma in his life—"

"But he was happy!" Percy interrupted, before calming himself when Audrey lightly touched his arm. "He was happy."

Roxanne smiled tearfully. "I know he was. But sometimes it just happens that…it's their time and there's nothing we can do about it."

Percy wanted to say more, but the rest of the family started trickling in, with Freddie and his wife in the lead.

"What's wrong with Dad?" he demanded, and as Roxanne was forced to repeat her story again and again to each new relative that showed up, Percy moved forward to have a private word with Angelina.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently, wincing when he realized it was the worst question to ask.

Angelina smiled faintly at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "It's strange, but…I think…I always knew it would be…like this…" Her shoulders started to shake as tears welled in her eyes. Percy drew her small, shuddering form into a hug, and when they finally pulled apart, he spoke.

"Do you mind…if I have a moment with him? Alone?"

Angelina sniffed and shook her head. "No, go ahead. You might not get another chance." She swallowed heavily and Percy put his own wrinkled hand on hers before crossing into George's hospital room.

George's face looked strained as Percy groaningly sank into a chair beside his bed. He could hear George's breaths, and they were shallow, scraping and wheezing from deep within his chest. Percy inhaled slowly, his own heart again tightening as he realized he would have to say goodbye to another of his brothers.

After Fred had been Charlie, about fifteen years before. He had died doing what he loved, but that was not enough of a comfort for their aging mum, who had been devastated to bury another child before herself. When she started to wane physically and emotionally, the family realized that Charlie had been her breaking point, and it wasn't long after that that she passed peacefully in her sleep. Arthur, who had been mirroring his wife's rapid decline, had looked completely drained when he told the family. When he abruptly passed a week later, the family understood that he had held on to let Molly pass before him so she wouldn't have to grieve over anyone else.

Now…now it was George's turn. Percy gripped his brother's hand and felt his eyes sting with tears. How could this have happened? Why was he always allowed to outlive his younger siblings?

But that train of thought didn't bring him far. He had grown stronger and healthier over these last few decades, and as painful as it was saying goodbye, he no longer resented himself enough to wish he were the one dying instead. After all, he had his family to care about and look after, and he wanted to see his grandchildren succeed and have their own families. It wasn't fair that he should live when George couldn't, but that was the way life was, and what Roxanne had said about George's trauma…Percy knew what Angelina meant when she said this was how she had envisioned their future. George had survived his twin by fifty years, fifty glorious, happy years, and that was enough. It was time for him to go.

Percy's breath hitched and then sputtered when George suddenly spoke up.

"Perce? Is that…you?" George said with obvious difficulty as he tried to sit up.

"Lie down. Yes, it's me," Percy said, gently pushing his brother back into his bed.

George's eyes were foggy and he blinked as if he couldn't see. Percy grabbed his hand and squeezed to reassure him that he was still there.

"Were you…there? The…the warm…hand?" George managed.

"What?" Percy said, frowning. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about."

George grimaced in momentary pain before relaxing and dragging in a breath. "It must be…it must be…"

"George?"

"Percy…where…who is…are they…?" George said, abruptly frantic. Percy rushed to calm him.

"You collapsed at Fred's grave. You're in the hospital, and the family's outside. Do you think…you can stay awake long enough to see everyone?"

George glanced around desperately. "Where are…they? Where…? I can't…see…!"

"Calm down, George, I'm going to get Roxanne. She'll give you a potion to help you calm down, alright?"

Swallowing heavily, Percy patted George's arm and headed out into the hall to get Roxanne.

That night, the family crowded into George's room to wait for the inevitable. They had all spent the day utterly dazed and numb, unable to believe that this was happening. Roxanne had performed more tests, but they only confirmed her fears, and George's immediate family, his wife and children, all came together to share their grief. Thankfully, George had stayed conscious long enough to say proper farewells to them all, even if he had been a bit confused about where he was and who he was speaking to. After that, he had fallen unconscious and nothing they did had been able to revive him. They had instead grabbed some food and set up around him, sharing their favorite memories and stories of George's past. The room sweltered with so many people crammed into it, but Percy wouldn't have had it any other way. As they laughed and ate, the hours grew longer and darker, and some of them drifted off in their seats. Percy stubbornly remained awake, and spent the time watching everyone interacting with their families.

Despite the cloying sadness, there was a fierce feeling of love and warmth in the room that made Percy want to weep. This was family, this was surviving the ups and downs and celebrating and mourning and fighting and joking. A long time ago, he thought he had abandoned this future. He thought he had been stronger, choosing the right side. But he had been weak, and afraid, and too arrogant to see that _this_ is what family was. It wasn't perfect by any means. It just…_was_. It was knowing someone would always be there to pick you up, or hold your hand. Or point a wand at their head to stop you from making the worst mistake you could ever make, preventing that easy escape but allowing for a future full of life. Percy stared at George and then at the rest of the family, all gathered in units, some popping in and out to attend to their children in the hallway. All somber but patient, waiting, waiting…

Snuggling into Audrey, clasping Lucy's and Molly's hands, Percy finally closed his eyes.

* * *

><p>There was that warmth again. George felt it at the end of the bed, and though his eyes were closed, it was a light so blinding he could sense it through his eyelids. He inhaled a gasping breath and shuddered. Another breath rasped and he opened his eyes and smiled.<p>

The family was surrounding him, Weasleys and Potters, old men and women, children and sleeping babies. They were all there, and George felt their love like a pulse, making it easier to breathe as he at last regarded the light. He had to squint to see it, but then it was obvious and George laughed.

"You've always been here, haven't you?" he whispered, and the shining form of Fred just rolled his eyes and nodded. George remembered carrying his children…ah, Freddie and Roxy, they were seated next to him with Angelina. His eyes swept over them and he felt love kindling deep in his chest, completely consuming the ache that had once been there. Merlin, how he loved them! And he remembered hoisting Freddie and Roxy into his arms, and they would wave over his shoulder at something he couldn't see, and when he turned around, there wasn't anything there.

"I was an idiot," George said, and at his words, some of the family finally realized he was awake and speaking. They stirred but George felt their eyes leave him and fixate on Fred, whose glow was lighting up the entire room.

"Fred," came Ginny's whisper, and George heard Percy gasp somewhere near him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw hands clench each other tightly, and parents pull their children to their chests, and his siblings weeping. But that wasn't what he was focused on.

Fred's face swam into his vision, every detail exact. His eyes crinkling as he laughed but made no sound. The dimples and the freckles and the way he held his body…it was all as George remembered. He felt it, like a tug on his body, and he wanted to touch his twin and make sure he was real, that this memory of his brother, his twenty year old brother, wouldn't just fade away.

But he couldn't sit up. Fred stopped laughing and he and George met each other's eyes. George made no move, but Fred leaned forward, holding out his hand, and George's heart sputtered erratically and he couldn't breathe, but his brother had found his hand. George clutched it, _felt_ it, and when he looked down, he saw that his own hand was glowing. He sat up and realized his entire body was illuminated, and he felt young and weightless. He was twenty years old again!

George heard a sigh and glanced down to watch his seventy year old sink back into the bed, lifeless. A pang ripped through him, but he was still holding Fred's hand. Looking up at his twin, George felt tears in his eyes. He wanted to speak, but he didn't know what to say.

"It's about time," Fred said, grinning, and George grinned back at him, his chest exploding with light and joy. He allowed Fred to pull him off the bed and onto his feet, and as Fred turned to guide him away, George found his voice.

"Wait," he said, and he turned back to the family that were staring in awe, or shaking with tears. George instantly locked on Angelina's trembling form, and breaking out of Fred's grasp, he somehow floated and walked over to her. She gazed at him and reached up to stroke his face as she had done so much in life, but her hand passed through him and George instead felt her touch rippling inside him. She withdrew her hand, shocked, and Roxanne pressed into her mother's side to support her.

"Angelina," George said. "I'm sorry to leave you like this. I didn't…" he trailed off and looked back at Fred. "Can they hear me?"

"No."

"But they can—?"

"See you? Yes."

George smiled at Fred and turned back to his wife. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead as best he could, and then reaching out, he patted his son's and daughter's hands. Letting his eyes roam, he met the gazes of each person, even the babies, who were staring silently, dazzled by the light. Making sure they were all looking, George stood up straight.

"Everyone, I love you. I'm sorry, and…goodbye."

George found Fred's hand, and the last thing he heard before the light eliminated all thought was Fred's voice.

"C'mon, Georgie. There's some people we really need to meet."

* * *

><p>A week later, an old man was standing in the cemetery of Hogwarts, staring at the graves of his twin brothers, which were side by side and matching in portraits that joked and visited each other and constantly conspired to come up with the best pranks. The man was alone, and as the wind blew his robes, he reached inside and withdrew a piece of paper. He picked up a stone, gently laid it on top of the paper, and whispered a spell so it wouldn't blow away. He stood there for another moment, and then, pulling up his robes against the wind, he turned and walked away.<p>

The paper flapped and fluttered, but even under the first rainfall, it did not tear, and the stone was not removed, and the words did not disappear. They remained clear.

W.Y.S.K.Y.

Two columns. Ten numbered points.

All checked off.

* * *

><p><em>AN_: _Well, that's it, folks! I'm not sure how those last scenes pair up with the heartbreaking visions in my head, but I hope you enjoyed them and don't hate me too much! _

_I also hope you guys didn't mind the change in writing style and the whole fast-forward that was this epilogue! This story was about George and Percy's recovery, not their whole lives, so I apologize if that's what you were expecting. I really wanted to focus on their journey back to happiness using the Checklist, and I always envisioned this scene at the end, so it was just a matter of getting there.  
><em>

_Though I've probably not been completely in character with everyone, this IS how I envision their lives post DH, and you're free to fantasize or read other fics about their parenting years like I do all the time! :) _

_In any case, THANK YOU for reading! I have so sincerely appreciated every review, and I can only hope that I left you FEELING something, since that's the greatest satisfaction I will ever receive - just knowing that my writing moved someone.  
><em>

_Again, thank you to all who read this, especially my reviewers! You made my day so many times and have all helped me become a better writer. I LOVE YOU ALL!  
><em>

**thesecondshelf** (I'm so glad I found your work, and really appreciate your feedback!)

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And to: **L'Arya Shadeslayer**, **Reno of the Troika**, **Shaneey**, and **tofu-melon** who are the staff of the community this fic was added to. I'm honored! :)

* * *

><p><em>I don't know when my next foray into fanfiction will be...or if I will have another one. Hopefully my next major writing project will be a published novel of my original stories and ideas, inspired by the experience I gained from this site and the constructive criticism and feedback I received from amazing reviewers. I can't thank you guys enough!<em>

_Only time will tell... Until then, keep reading, keep writing, keep loving, and know that, no matter how bad it gets, it's going to be okay.  
><em>

_With all my love and kindest well-wishes,_

_Kelly_


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